by Mandy Lee
Shifting his body, he draws me into his chest, touching his lips against my forehead. ‘I’ve never run a marathon, but does that mean I never can?’
He moves a hand between my legs, parting them, slowly smoothing his palm against my thighs, moving up further towards my crotch. Closing my eyes, I know I’m done for: my brain is about to be scattered into another whirlpool of ecstasy. I haven’t got much time now, and there’s a question I need to ask.
‘Dan?’
‘Uh huh?’
He manoeuvres me onto my back. Leaning over me, propping himself up with one hand, he pushes a finger inside my vagina, as far as it can go, pressing against the inside of my clitoris in a slow, pulsing action. My muscles begin to clench, sending exquisite little ripples of pleasure throughout my groin.
‘Why did you choose me?’
‘Why do you ask?’ He rubs his thumb against the outside of my clit, massaging me simultaneously, inside and out.
‘Motives.’ I gasp at a sudden rush of warmth. ‘I need to know your motives.’
I open my eyes, just in time to catch the hint of a frown. Still patiently massaging me, he’s quiet for a while before he finally answers.
‘When I’m with you, I feel contented. I feel complete. Is that a bad motive?’ He kisses me softly, then takes my bottom lip between his teeth, holding it there for a moment, applying just enough pressure for it to be on the verge of pain. ‘Is it?’ he asks, releasing me.
‘No, of course not.’
‘From the moment I set eyes on you, I’ve wanted you.’ He closes his eyes for a moment. ‘No. I’ve needed you.’ He withdraws the finger from me and urges my legs apart with his knees. ‘Do you really think I could hurt someone who makes me feel this way?’
I shake my head and swallow hard, feeling his thick cock as it nudges against my opening.
‘This is all that counts, Maya.’ He presses into me, filling me to the hilt. ‘You and me. Nothing else. So, just let it go.’
Chapter Twenty-One
I’m woken by a pair of soft, warm lips kissing me. Opening my eyes, I find him leaning over me, a broad smile spread out across his face. The morning sun catches his irises, causing them to glimmer like sapphires. All manner of sensations spring into life between my legs. I want to drag him back into bed right now but the selfish bastard’s already dressed and judging by the smell of him, freshly showered.
‘Good morning, Miss Scotton.’
‘Good morning, Mr Foster. Why have you got your clothes on?’
‘Because I’ve got a job to go to, and I’m pretty sure it’s not appropriate to turn up at work stark bollock naked.’
‘You could try it. The receptionists in the lobby wouldn’t mind.’
‘I bet they wouldn’t.’ He runs a finger down the side of my face. ‘I’ve made you a cup of tea.’ He leans back, motions towards a mug on the bedside table, and then gets to his feet, moving over to the full length mirror. He looks delicious in his black trousers and white shirt, but I still feel cheated. He could have woken me up for a morning session before he went and wrapped himself away in his work clothes. But it’s too late now, and I suppose I mustn’t complain. After all, he did have me at it for half the night. The man certainly wasn’t lying when he claimed that he could fuck us both to death. While he turns to fix his tie in the mirror, I gawp at his backside, taking in the way his trousers hang from his waist, the cut of the cloth across his firm buttocks.
‘Are we good?’ he asks, turning back to face me.
‘We’re very good,’ I practically drool, shuffling up in bed, careful to let him have full view of my breasts. He arches an eyebrow.
‘Put those away. I’ve seriously got to get into work.’ I pull the sheet back up and he seems to sigh in relief. ‘Seeing as I can’t be in Edinburgh, I’m setting up a conference call later. I’ll be busy over lunch, but I should be finished by about five. You’re staying at mine tonight.’
‘I am?’
‘Absolutely.’ He winks. ‘Now, get dressed. I’ve got a company car picking us up in half an hour. You can come into work with me.’
He turns and leaves me to gather my senses. It takes a while. After a few sips of tea, I roll out of bed and head for a shower. I dry my hair, apply a quick dusting of make-up and put on today’s clothes: yet another of Lucy’s miniscule skirts, matched with another of her undersized blouses. I’m scrabbling through my drawers, searching for a sexy pair of knickers when I come across the suspender belt and the black stockings: a gift from Tom a few Christmases back. I’ve never worn them before. They’re still in their packaging. I pull them out, hitch up the skirt and clip the belt around my waist before slipping the stockings on and fixing them into place. Yes, not bad at all, I decide, glancing in the mirror. My own little present for Dan. At last, I head into the kitchen where I find him sitting with Lucy at the rickety table, locked into a conversation that comes to an abrupt halt as soon as I enter the room.
‘What are you two talking about?’
‘Nothing,’ Lucy squeaks.
‘It didn’t look like nothing.’
‘We were talking about art,’ Dan smiles. Standing up, he motions for me to take his place at the table. As soon as I’ve lowered myself onto the chair, he leans down and plants a kiss on the top of my head, before picking up a carton of milk and sauntering over to the fridge. ‘I was just asking Lucy about any new stuff they’re getting in at Slaters.’
‘Yes, that’s what we were talking about,’ Lucy confirms, sucking at her teeth. ‘We were talking about that.’
She’s lying. I know she is. Lucy Godfrey is the worst liar on Earth. In all probability, he was grilling her for information on me. Deciding that I’m going to get the truth out of her another time, I shoot her a look of almost certain death, but it’s a waste of energy. She’s paying absolutely no attention to me now. Instead, she’s watching the sex god, perving over his backside while he leans down to put the milk back in the fridge. I can barely believe what I’m seeing here: my best friend eyeing up my sort-of-boyfriend. As he straightens up, Lucy turns away quickly.
‘Breakfast,’ he says sternly, pointing at the table where a plate of toast is waiting for me.
‘I’m not hungry,’ I complain.
‘I’ve made it for you. Now eat it. You’re going to need plenty of energy for later.’
I stare across the table at Lucy, realising with a jolt that she understands exactly what he’s getting at. He’s not referring to work at all. Leaning back in her chair and clutching at a mug full of tea, my flat mate begins to smirk like some sort of demented Cheshire cat.
***
As if he’s scared I’m going to jump out at any minute, the car journey passes by with me folded up in his arms. More than once, I wonder if I should take his hand and guide it up my skirt so that he can feel the suspenders, and more than once I decide against it. After all, I seriously need to get a grip on my body, because lately it seems to have clubbed my brain into submission and taken the helm, turning me into a raving nymphomaniac. And besides, there’s no screen between the back seat and the driver and God knows what would happen if I got Dan turned on enough. We arrive at the back of the building, a roadside entrance I’ve never noticed before. He gets out first, holding out his hand to me and leading me inside. We’re joined in the lifts by others, staring down at their feet again, but somehow today I don’t care. The gossip’s already spread around the building. So what if they all know? By the time we reach the fourteenth floor, we’re alone. He holds out an arm, keeping the lift door open while he kisses me gently.
‘I’ll see you later,’ he whispers into my ear.
***
Back in the office, I spend the morning gazing out of the window with my chin in my hands, day-dreaming about last night. Every now and then, I look up to find Jodie staring at me. Every now and then, I check my mobile, wondering if he’s sent a text from up above, but there’s nothing. At eleven o’clock, I’m summoned into Norman’s off
ice where the big teddy bear paces backwards and forwards a few times, huffing and puffing as he skirts round the exercise bike. Finally, he lets out a huge sigh and waves me away again. I’ve just about settled myself back on my chair when I jump clean out of my skin at the sound of Norman’s voice.
‘Maya?’
I look up to find that he’s followed me back out to my desk.
‘Yes, Norman?’
‘He’s not supposed to be here today.’
‘Who?’
‘Mr Foster. I mean Dan.’ He wafts a big hand around in the air. ‘He’s supposed to be in Edinburgh.’
‘He is.’
‘But he’s here. Why is he here?’
I shrug my shoulders. No way am I about to tell Norman that the reason why Daniel Foster returned to London a day early, chartering a helicopter at God knows what cost, was to fuck me back into his life.
‘Sweet peas,’ Norman mutters, pointing at the jam jar. I follow the direction of his finger to find that the flowers are beginning to wilt now.
‘Sweet peas,’ I confirm.
‘Sweet peas,’ he mutters again. His eyes seem to narrow a little, and then expand. His pupils dilate. Somehow, he seems to have been lulled into some sort of a stupor.
‘Is there a problem with the sweet peas, Norman?’ I ask.
‘Not sure.’
He shakes his head before brooding his way back into his office. Collapsing into his chair, he begins to wrestle with today’s Financial Times. Mystified by his last remark, I stare after him. Okay, so I got it all wrong. Norman certainly wasn’t the one who left the sweet peas on my desk. Jodie must have been right all along. It must have been the cleaner. But that’s of no interest to me right now. Right now, I want to know exactly how much Dan spent on a helicopter charter. I’ve just typed the word ‘helicopter’ into the search bar of my computer when the office door swings open, revealing a delivery man and a gigantic bunch of red roses. He shuffles forwards, heading straight for the pink princess.
‘Not for me,’ Jodie growls, pointing a pen in my direction. ‘She’s the one with the rich boyfriend.’
‘He’s not my boyfriend,’ I add quickly, glancing from the roses to Jodie and then back again. ‘At least I don’t think he is.’
‘Well, whatever he is,’ the delivery man wheezes, ‘this lot is for Maya Scotton and I need a signature before my asthma kicks off.’
I sign for the roses and make space on my desk. As soon as they’re plonked down, I dive straight in, searching for a card. Eventually, I find it, open it up and read the message.
I’m glad I’ve found you.
It’s the first time I’ve ever seen his handwriting: strong, confident, yet stylish. My heartbeat flips and I’m suddenly light-headed. A classic, romantic gesture. Is this his way of telling me he loves me? Well, maybe it is, and maybe it isn’t. After all, there’s no kiss. Whatever’s going on, all I know is that I need to see him. It’s been just over two hours since I last looked at his ridiculously handsome face, and I’m already suffering from withdrawal symptoms. I must be well and truly addicted. Deciding that I’m going to get a fix, and that thanking him for the roses is a good enough excuse, I push back my chair in a flurry of excitement and head out for the lift. My hands are shaking as I tap the button. My legs begin to tremble as I ride the lift one floor up. In a daze, I skitter out into the reception area to find no one at the desk. From the kitchen, I can hear the sound of the space age coffee machine preparing to take off. Hardly thinking about the fact that it’s closed, I head straight for the door. I’ve already opened it, already forced my way through into his office when I hear Carla’s voice screeching behind me.
‘He’s got someone with him!’
It’s too late. By the time the message registers with my brain, I’m already through the doorway, gawping at the scene. He’s standing in front of his desk. And so is Lily Babbage, the madam. He has his hands clasped on her shoulders, and she’s close … very close.
Caught in the act, my brain screams out. Once a man-slag, always a man-slag!
In an instant, I banish every last ounce of jittery excitement from my body. You’ve been an idiot, I tell myself. You’ve let yourself be drawn in by a pair of come-to-beds and a shed load of rippling muscles. Daniel Foster isn’t in love with you, you prat. He’s just going through the motions. Clive, the evil friend, was right after all: he’s incapable of love.
‘Maya!’ He’s surprised, but he doesn’t drop his arms. ‘What are you doing here?’
I glance from him to her, taking it all in. Finally, he releases the hussy.
‘What’s the matter?’ he asks.
‘You can answer my question first. What’s going on?’ I demand.
Lily Babbage takes a step backwards and smiles archly at me.
‘I’d better go, Dan,’ she purrs.
He nods and within seconds, Lily Babbage has gone, taking her ridiculous name with her.
‘What was she doing here?’ I glare at him from across the room. Okay, so I’m probably being unreasonable. I’ve only met the woman twice and I’ve already come to the conclusion that she’s a BDSM fiend, or a madam, or both. But, nevertheless, I’m fucking furious. He’s not going to get away with this.
‘You know who she is.’ He tips his head to one side, examining my face, and then he begins to stalk towards me. The heat rises in my body. He’s got that look in his eyes, as if he wants to pin me down right here and have his way. ‘You’re jealous.’
My body bristles. I may well be jealous, but I’m not about to have him telling me that.
‘What if I am? You need to explain yourself.’
‘I’m not getting into this just now. I’ve got the conference call in ten minutes.’
‘Well, stuff you then.’
He’s so quick I don’t have time to react. Catching hold of my arms, he pulls me in to his chest. I struggle to free myself but the grip tightens.
‘Don’t be a bitch. It doesn’t suit you. I’ll explain about Lily tonight.’
I lean my head back and do my best to laugh.
‘Tonight’s cancelled. You’re not fucking me when you’re still fucking other women.’
One hand locks around my waist, while the other comes up to the back of my head, forcing my face into position next to his.
‘I am not fucking other women,’ he growls into my ear. ‘I own you and you own me, remember?’
‘You’re a shit.’ He squeezes me hard. ‘Get off.’
‘Not until you calm down, woman.’
There’s no other way out of this. I can see that now. I’m held in his grip and he really isn’t about to let go. I’ll have to feign compliance, or else I’m going to be found in some sort of compromising position by Carla. I will my body to relax.
‘Now, listen to me,’ he whispers. ‘Lily is no threat to you. Trust me on that one.’
I nod but I certainly don’t mean it.
‘I like the fact that you’re jealous.’ He smiles. ‘But I don’t like the fact that you doubt me.’
‘If I’m jealous, then I’m doubting you,’ I hiss. ‘The two things kind of go together, you prat.’
He pulls me closer. His cock throbs against my groin.
‘Smart arse,’ he breathes. ‘Now, see what you’ve gone and done. I’ve got to talk to the Edinburgh team with a massive boner.’
‘Poor you,’ I breathe back. ‘Why don’t you just have a quick wank?’
‘I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t I just fuck you senseless in my bathroom?’
And that’s done it. Even though I despise the man right now, I’m on the verge of squealing ‘Okay then! Come on!’ I’m so nearly there. I don’t know whether it’s the twinkle in his ridiculously blue eyes or the electrical charge that’s currently zinging about in the air between us, but right now I’m pretty sure I’d agree to anything. It’s just as well we’re interrupted by Carla.
‘Mr Foster?’ I turn to find her hovering in the doorway. ‘The E
dinburgh call’s come through a little early. It sounds like things aren’t going too well.’
‘Put them through, Carla.’ Releasing me momentarily, he waves her away before clamping his hand back around my arm. ‘I’ll pick you up at five, Miss Scotton, on my way down to the car park. You’d better be ready.’ He brushes his lips against mine, unleashing a whirlpool of lust between my legs, and then he leans down and whispers into my ear. ‘Don’t work too hard this afternoon. You’ll need all your energy for tonight. I’m going to fuck you rotten.’
We’ll see about that, Mr Foster, my brain calls out. If you think you’ve got the upper hand here, then you’ve got another think coming.
Chapter Twenty-Two
It’s a quarter to five and I’m ready to go. I’ve squared nothing with Norman, but I’m not even sure he’ll notice if I’m out before time. All I know is I need to escape before Daniel Foster gets anywhere near me. I need time to think. Closing down my computer, I grab my handbag.
‘I’m off,’ I announce.
Jodie’s head flips up.
‘But it’s …’
‘I know, and I’m going.’
Before she can say anything else, I’m out of the door, scooting into an empty lift and riding it all the way to the ground floor without being stopped once. Down in the lobby, I’m half way towards the revolving doors when a huge, muscle-bound body appears in front of me, halting me in my tracks. My eyes climb up the torso, past a name badge proclaiming that the muscle-bound body belongs to a man called Dave who works in Security, and further up into a pretty stern looking face.
‘You can’t leave by these doors, Miss,’ Dave informs me.
‘Why not?’
‘Because they’re not working at the minute. We’re waiting for the engineer.’
‘But I need to get out.’
‘Then you’ll have to go via the basement. The garage doors are open. Take the lift.’ He smiles briefly. ‘Go on.’
With a huff, I turn on my heels and make my way back to the lift. Punching the basement button, I check my watch. Still only ten to five. I fling myself into an empty carriage and let out a breath of relief as the doors close. He won’t be out of his office yet. There’s no way he’ll manage to intercept me now. When the doors open again, I’m presented with an eerily silent garage. The hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention as I step out and adjust my eyes to the gloom. There’s something not quite right here. The doors shut behind me and I take another step forwards, noting the handful of cars: a BMW, a Jaguar, an Audi TT. Another step and I can see the garage doors. They’re closed.