by Alina Jacobs
"Don't you want to fuck me?" she whimpered. She could tell she was so close. She wanted to last longer, but he was driving her to the edge.
"Oh, trust me. I've wanted to fuck you since I first saw you. Isn't that what I said? 'I want to bend you over and fuck you in my office.'"
"I think you neglected to say the bend over part," she said then let out a high-pitched cry and reached behind her to bunch her fingers in his dark hair.
"Hmm, my fault. I really should be more specific." His fingers were working her clit now, the slight callouses sending a jolt up her torso, making her teeth clench. She could only make little mewling noises as he continued to talk. "That's exactly what I want to do—bend you over and fuck you 'till you scream. I still will be hard of course. I have the best staying power."
"Uhn." Liz couldn't say anything coherent.
"Are you going to come for me?" Wes asked. His voice was low and dripping with lust. Liz could hear her own breath coming out in high-pitched pants. She thought she would scream his name when she came, but she felt so dizzy from the sensation that it was more of a jumble of ohmygods and whining noises.
She lay sprawled in his lap, his hand still curled between her legs. Grabbing her chin, he turned her head and looked at her, his face smug. "I could make you come again, you know."
"I don't know if I could take it," Liz mumbled. She felt like she was floating on a cloud. "You didn't come," she said, her hand sliding down his chest to cup the bulge in his pants.
"You know," he said as he slowly removed his hand, "I came over here to throw you on the bed and fuck you until you screamed, but I think I like you like this better. There's work tomorrow, after all, and I don't want to rush. I want our first time to be special. I want to do it right, and I want to take my time. I'm going to make you come five times." The last line was a whispered promise in her ear.
"No you won't," Liz murmured. She felt sleepy from the pleasure and closed her eyes, leaning back against him to relive it.
"Wes," she said, jolting awake. Then it hit her that he wasn't there. Blinking, she lay sprawled on the couch. She couldn't believe he had just up and gone. Why didn't he stay? Had she done something wrong?
She sent a string of random emoji to Anastasia.
You slept with him??
Liz was grateful Anastasia had answered. She needed to talk this out.
Sort of how did you know?
Anastasia replied a second later.
You hungry?
Of course you are
Come meet me
"Maybe I should have actually slept with him," Liz said to Anastasia after waiting patiently for her friend to photograph Liz's clam chowder.
"I'm doing a series on simple foods," Anastasia explained.
Liz stirred the chowder around. It was already lukewarm. "Maybe I smelled weird."
"You don't smell weird," Anastasia said. "Who knows what men like Wes are thinking? Maybe he's enjoying the hunt. Maybe he only had you scheduled in for thirty minutes and to do a proper romp in the sheets he needs three hours."
"Maybe."
"Was he hard at least?"
Liz nodded.
"Did you see it?"
"No," Liz said. Then she frowned.
"He saw my scrapbook."
Anastasia clapped both hands over her mouth, stifling a shriek of laughter. "The wedding stalker scrapbook? Liz, you didn't."
"He just showed up!" Liz wailed.
"That means he likes you. Or he wants you at least. He'll be back," Anastasia said in reassurance.
"I have to see him at the office tomorrow," Liz moaned. "It's going to be so awkward."
"Wear something nice, and wash your hair."
Liz decided she shouldn't have been worried. Wes seemed pleased to see her the next day. All throughout the board meeting, while they talked about the transitions, Wes looked at her like he wanted to rip her clothes off.
The only negative, besides the fact that she didn't have a lot of good news as far as reducing layoffs, was that Brayden was there. He had insisted on sitting right next to Liz, and as she made her presentation, he ran his foot up her leg. She scooted her chair closer to Grant and tried to ignore Brayden. She had Wes now, and she didn't need to worry about Brayden.
After the meeting, Wes hung back while the rest of the board members left to go to the lunch spread out in the next room. As soon as they were alone, Wes came over to Liz and wrapped her in his arms. "I missed you."
She inhaled the scent of him. "You should have stayed last night."
"You fell asleep."
"No, I didn't," she said crossly. She felt him grin in her hair. He pulled away from her slightly, and she looked up into his face.
"You are so cute when you sleep, and I told you I want to take my time, not fuck you while you're half-awake." He kissed her again, letting his hands slide up her skirt. She moaned, leaning into him, wanting a repeat of last evening.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw motion through the glass. "I think Brayden is watching," she hissed and tried to push away.
"Let him," Wes said. "That way he knows you're mine."
"Yes, but still."
Wes released her and watched her with a lazy smile on his face as she straightened her clothes. "Are you doing anything this afternoon?"
"Yes," she said. "I have to work. Not all of us are billionaires who can take off at a moment's notice."
"If you married me, you could be," he said, grabbing her arm and talking low into her ear. "That's what you want. Isn't it?"
"Are you making fun of my scrapbooks?" she asked, feeling embarrassed and jerking away from him.
"I'm just joking, Liz. The scrapbooks are funny. Honest." He held her, and she let him pull her closer against his body. "I like it. It's cute."
"It's creepy. I shouldn't have done that. I'm going to throw it all out," she said.
"You don't have to do that," he said. "Look, I'm serious about you. The Holbrooks want me to come to New Cardiff for the weekend for some party they're doing. You can be my plus one. We can take some more pictures for the scrapbook. I sort of want to see the finished product now. I could even pose for you if you wanted another extra-special picture."
Liz felt a thrill that he had asked her. Did that mean he was serious about her? She raised herself on her toes and kissed him.
"Was that a yes, you'll go?" Wes asked her, his hands resting lightly on her waist. She nodded.
"I need to go back to work. I can't let you keep distracting me," Liz said, running her hand up and down the lapels of his suit jacket.
"I'm distracting?" he asked, his hand finding its way up her freshly adjusted skirt.
"Yes," she replied, giggling.
"Hmm," he said, his fingers slowly working their way under her soaking-wet panties. "You really are distracted, aren't you?"
With some regret, she pulled his hand away. "Stop it, or I'm going to drag you into one of the wellness rooms and show you just how wet I am." She was gratified when his eyes went slightly wide.
"That sounds like a challenge."
"Maybe. But I do have a meeting."
He pulled her in for one last kiss before letting her hurry away.
30
Wes
Wes was still aching hard when he left Liz asleep on the couch. He could have stayed. He wanted to stay, but she looked so peaceful. He listened to her slow and steady breathing and quietly walked to the table, looking over the scrapbook. The pictures of him, carefully cut out from various magazines, gazed back at him, surrounded by expensive paper and decals.
Most eligible bachelor, one page said in a stylistic cursive font. And he's all mine! it concluded.
There was another page that had a picture of him and Kal that he recognized from a photoshoot from Business Insider magazine. A good man with a good dog is the only man I want! read the handwritten heading.
Kal's face looked at him accusingly, and Wes dropped the page and hurried out the door. As soon
as he stepped into the hallway, he was confronted by the elderly Mrs. Burbank. Had she been waiting for him?
"I have my eye on you," she said. "I don't like the looks of you. You Holbrook men are all bad news. You all run around and get nice girls into trouble."
"What are you talking about?" he asked, walking quickly in her direction.
The elderly woman stepped back and almost lost her balance. He reached to steady her.
"Don't touch me!" she yelled and hit him in the face with her large heavy handbag.
"I was only trying—never mind. I have to go," he said, rubbing his head.
Back at his apartment, Wes paced around, thinking of Liz. He was feeling pretty good about the way Liz seemed drawn to him. What his plan hadn't counted on was how he had started to feel about her. He wanted her, and he wished he had woken her up and fucked her before he left. That's what his cock wanted.
It had been a long time since he'd had sex. Wes had always been too busy or too stressed. Plus once his company had taken off and his net worth climbed, he was afraid that any woman who showed any interest in him was only after an easy paycheck.
Dana had also told him in no uncertain terms that he should refrain from having any sort of relationship until after he IPOed. Wes suspected she had also had a hand in chasing off any women who tried to pursue him.
With Liz, it felt different. Being with her made it easy to forget about the plan and the Holbrooks. It felt like he was just out with his girlfriend.
He stopped pacing. Liz was supposed to be his target, not his friend and certainly not his girlfriend. Not that he had ever had a real girlfriend, not like what the magazines talked about. He went out a few times in college, but it was to frat parties. Then there was the company, and he hadn't had any real time.
At the time, he hadn't known what the fuss was about. Why bother with a wife or girlfriend when he could just sleep with a willing woman, no strings attached. Not that he did with any regularity. But Liz felt like the beginnings of a real friendship. The way she looked at him like she adored him and he could do no wrong—it was intoxicating. He could bask in her adoration all day. Plus she had looked sexy in that white dress.
"It's only lust," he told himself. "You do not care about her." His cock was uncomfortably hard, and he adjusted his pants. But Wes didn't want to jack off. He wanted to save the energy and release it on her. But he was so hard.
His phone buzzed, knocking the thoughts of Liz out of his head.
Rhonda had sent him a text message. That did it. Erection gone.
Heard you're going to the Holbrooks for a weekend
Don't forget what team you play for
Why is she so concerned? he wondered.
There is not going to be a problem
All part of the plan
Stop stalking me
His erection came back that night when he dreamed about Liz. He woke up hot and bothered. It was not a good start to the day.
At another meeting the next morning, he watched her talk about the restructuring. Wes wanted to unwrap her from the neat little package of her suit and push all the right buttons.
Thankfully, Liz didn't seem too upset that he'd left her.
When she smiled at him, it was like someone jammed him with a fork hooked up to an electrical outlet. His brain and his cock wanted one thing.
Wes tried to compose himself after everyone went to grab lunch.
"So, have you fucked her yet?" Brayden said as he snuck into the conference room.
"Can I help you with something, Brayden?" he snapped. Wes didn't know why Svensson Investment had hired Brayden. They had to be family friends or something because Brayden always seemed off somehow to Wes.
"I need to talk to Walter," Wes said, brushing past Brayden. "Excuse me."
He didn't want to talk to his father—he supposed he should call him father—but really he was the cause of all Wes's pain. Brayden followed Wes out of the room, so Wes felt obligated to approach Walter.
"Wes!" Walter said as he grabbed a sandwich from the tray. "Grant tells me you are coming to the estate this weekend." Right. The party. Wes didn't want to go but knew he should because of the plan.
"So it appears," Wes replied. He still couldn't believe he was related to this man. But in studying their features, it seemed obvious. He looked nothing like Hank. What should he call Hank now? His stepfather?
"Why don't you bring your sister as well?" Walter said.
"I'll see if she's available." There was an uncomfortable silence.
"And I hear you're bringing a guest?" Walter looked down the hall. Wes followed his gaze. There was Liz talking to Carter, who had apparently just arrived since he was holding the elevator open for her. Wes watched her step into the elevator and disappear.
"You coming to the estate for the weekend, cuz?" Carter called as he sauntered over to the food table and loaded up a plate.
"Liz is coming too," Walter said.
Carter looked at Wes suspiciously. "What are your intentions with her?"
Wes thought for a beat. Should he say marriage? Girlfriend? Love at first sight. No, that sounded creepy and insincere.
"I want her to be happy," he said.
Carter seemed satisfied. Wes listened to his cousin complain about having to live with Grant while his apartment was being renovated. Between being so close to Liz and being around his biological family, Wes wondered how he would survive the weekend.
31
Liz
"Have you seen his Danish sausage yet?"
"Are the Holbrooks Danish?" Liz asked.
"So, you haven't seen it," Anastasia confirmed.
"No." Liz sagged in her chair. "I really want to."
"I bet it's a nice hunk of meat," Anastasia said. They were in an upscale restaurant. It was just the two of them in the dining room, and the servers hovered around them. The restaurant had just opened, and Anastasia was there to review it for her popular blog. Periodically, the manager would peer around a doorway. He looked pained.
"That's how you know you like someone," she said, sipping her wine. "If you want to suck him off. Is that what you want, Liz?"
"And how is the shrimp?" the server asked, interrupting them. Anastasia had taken one bite. Liz ate hers and Anastasia's.
"It's great!" Liz said.
Anastasia held up a hand. "It's overcooked, and it has too much seasoning. If I wanted overdone shrimp, I would have gone to Red Lobster."
The server took the plates away.
"That's harsh," Liz said.
"The truth hurts. Also, this is exhibit eleven thousand on why I will never find a man. So I must live vicariously through you."
"What if I'm like Brandy, just snagging the first man who gives me the time of day?" Liz worried. "She and Fernando coupled up quickly; everyone said so."
"So did Grant and Kate," Anastasia countered.
"I guess, but I don't know if they're doing all that well. You should have heard them arguing about his behavior toward Wes."
"I heard about that, and it sounds justified," Anastasia said. "I think it's a lot more difficult when you work with someone."
"But that's me and Wes."
"You don't really work together. Once this transition thingy whatever business stuff you're doing is worked out, you'll barely see anything of each other, right?"
"Maybe Allie and Ginny are right, and this is moving too fast," Liz said.
Anastasia's phone buzzed as they were waiting for the next course. She tapped the screen.
"Holy shitake mushrooms! Remember that girl, Mena? We went to school with her. She's engaged to one of the Svenssons."
"Let me see," Liz said, peering at the screen. Mena' had been an average-looking chubby redhead with frizzy hair in high school. In her engagement photo, she looked like a model hanging on the arm of one of the tall blond Svensson brothers.
"Maybe I should go after one of those Svenssons," Anastasia sighed. "You know, have some new Nordic cuisine of my v
ery own."
"You would make a striking couple," Liz said.
"But if you marry Wes, then we couldn't be friends because the Svenssons hate the Holbrooks."
Liz chewed her lip as the waiters set down another course. "Can you blame them after what Walter and Eric did to them?"
Anastasia shushed Liz as she took out her camera and made more notes.
In the car on the way home, Liz looked through Mena's engagement photos. She felt a burning desire to have her own beautiful engagement photos.
"Look at that ring," she said. She could hear the envy in her voice.
Liz decided she didn't care if she was moving too fast. She needed a man. She needed the page in her scrapbook with the picture of the two of them with the title Just Engaged. She needed the nice house and the jealousy-inducing Instagram feed. Wes was her ticket to finally having what she always wanted.
The elder Mrs. Burbank was hanging out in her doorway when Liz arrived back at her condo, slightly drunk from all the wine at dinner.
"I told your mother you're having men come over here at all hours of the night," Mrs. Burbank said, her face pinched. "I don't like the look of that Holbrook. 'The Holbrooks are bad news. Take it from me."
"Thank you for your concern, Mrs. Burbank."
As soon as she shrugged off her coat, her phone rang.
"Hi, Mom," Liz said.
"Liz! When are we going to meet the famous Wes Holbrook?"
Liz slumped against her kitchen counter. "It's too early. I only just met him," Liz deflected.
"Mrs. Burbank seems very concerned about you, Liz. I had to hear all about it."
"I'm fine, Mom."
"You know, I don't like the idea of you bringing strange men to the condo."
"It's my condo," Liz said.
"Actually, it's mine," her father said, coming onto the phone.
"So, should I go to his instead?" Liz asked, gritting her teeth.
"You know," her mother chided. "Kate says he seems very serious about you. I don't trust that. He's only just met you."