by Amy Brent
“I see a man who works too much and has everything he wants.”
He chuckled, but it wasn’t an amused chuckle. “I guess I do look like that, don’t I? But, the reality is that I don’t have that—everything I want, I mean.”
His words were slurred, but to my drunken ears, they were perfectly intelligible. The intensity of his gaze and the confession hidden in them made my heart skip a beat.
Feeling weak in the knees and wet between my thighs, I whispered, “And what it is you want?”
A wicked smirk curled on Fletcher’s face as he continued to stare at me. The elevator dinged and the doors opened, but we stayed there, frozen.
“I think you know, my sweet Gracie.” His voice was like velvet and the finger he slid from my cheek all the way to the cleavage of my red dress scorched me like fire. I took in a deep breath as he added, “The question is, do you want it as well?”
Even tipsy as I was, I knew this was the point of no return. The exact moment when I should call Fletcher “Mr. Cox”, tell him a big, fat “NO!” and let the elevator take me back down to the party. However, my lust for that man and the elation of finally feeling wanted by him fought the little consciousness I still had. So instead of doing what I should, I reached down to grab Fletcher’s hand and pulled him out of the elevator with me.
“I’ve wanted it since I first met you,” I boldly said once the metal doors closed.
Without another word, Fletcher started walking towards his office, towing me along with him. The combination of my excitement and the deadly alcohol contents of Valerie’s punch made me less graceful on my high heels than I would have liked, but I had more important things on my mind than my stability.
As soon as we were both inside Fletcher’s office and the blinds were closed, he turned to look at me. His pupils were so dilated I could barely see the blue of his irises. My already foggy mind became even more clouded as the intoxicating smell of his cologne filled my nostrils.
I closed my eyes and simply felt the heat of his skin approaching as his hand once more touched my face. This time, his touch wasn’t light and appreciative as it usually was, it was raw and domineering and scorching. My mouth barely had time to pull in a deep breath to alleviate my arousal, when Fletcher’s lips covered mine.
Grace
Instead of the soft, careful kisses we had exchanged in the past. This one was all passion and heat. His tongue massaged my own in powerful, demanding strokes that made my body ache for so much more than just that one kiss.
When Fletcher pulled back for air, I had a moment of clarity. Fear of what would happen to my poor heart—and my job—if whatever this was between us went south gripped at my insides. In an act of self-preservation, I pushed my desire aside and tried—as best as I could—to do the right thing and stop this madness before it was too late.
“We shouldn’t do this,” I whispered.
“I know,” Fletcher said in a confident voice.
Sure that he would pull away from me and send me away as he usually did, I braced myself for the heartbreak. However, to my great surprise, Fletcher stayed right where he was and kissed me again.
I sighed against his mouth as my feeble resolve melted and I welcomed him again. He pushed his tongue into my mouth, my neck, my chest, and I let him taste every inch of me. Kissing Fletcher was like a dream and being held by him was everything I had ever wanted.
He put his arms around my body and pulled me so close to him I could feel his taut muscles and the lust in his pants. Feeling dizzy with desire, I moaned as his hands traveled up to my shoulder. He flickered the strap on my shoulder and the top of my dress fell down, revealing my lace covered breasts.
With a fixed gaze, Fletcher inched his hand under the soft fabric and finally touched my breast. I moaned as he massaged it, kneading it and urging my body to respond.
As he continued to pleasure me, I unbuttoned his shirt. My movements were slow and unpracticed. Though I was no virgin, I wasn’t too experienced either, but Fletcher didn’t seem to notice.
Once the garment was completely open, I pushed my hands onto his bare skin. His chest hair curled around the tips of my fingers, tickling me in the most erotic way. He kissed my neck and slid the zipper of my dress open as I pushed the shirt off his shoulders. Before his shirt even hit the floor, my dress was falling down my legs, and his fingers were unclasping my bra.
Seeing the passion in Fletcher’s eyes as I stood topless in front him was empowering. I felt beautiful, desired and all the other things I usually didn’t feel. It was a whole new world for me, and I loved it.
Mesmerized, Fletcher lifted a hand and touched me again. I gasped as his skin connected with mine and his fingers worked my hardened nipples. Every one of his touches was like having a live wire touching my skin. It was intense, but in a way that made me feel extremely alive.
Our kisses grew more and more intense as Fletcher pulled and tweaked with my nipples. Outside the door, I could hear people talking and walking by. For a second I wondered if they were also looking for a quiet place to fool around or if they were looking for us, but then Fletcher started kissing a downward path on my body and all thoughts were lost.
He kissed and nibbled every inch of my soft skin. His lips explored my collarbones, my cleavage, and my nipples where he took his sweet time. I moaned out his name as his mouth continued traveling down. He left a trail of fire as he kissed over my sides, belly and hip bones. I gasped as his thumbs hooked the sides of my thong and he slowly pulled the fabric down.
Leaving me completely naked, Fletcher stood up again and took a step back to admire me. My nature was to. feel self-conscious and try to cover myself, but with him, I didn’t. I felt comfortable and right.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said, his voice not at all slurred for the first time that night.
Not knowing how to reply to his usual comment, I just smiled and stood there, breathing deeply. After no more than a couple of seconds, he walked the distance between us and kissed me again.
Slowly, Fletcher’s hand moved around my hipbone and between my legs. I opened them willingly, welcoming his fingers into my moist sex. We’d never gone this far. This was forbidden territory—probably why it felt so damn good—but we were both eager to adventure into it.
I felt my body vibrate with each move of his probing fingers. It was like his touch made every cell of my body take a life of their own. My eyes closed and my heart thumped as his thumb circled my clit and teased my opening.
Unable to hold any longer, I fiddled with his belt buckle until it came loose in my hand. I didn’t want Fletcher to stop or back away, so I took charge and started undressing him. It took some concentration to move my hands while he continued to pleasure me, but I was bound and determined.
Apparently, so was he.
When his jeans fell to his ankles, Fletcher took his hands off of me for just long enough to remove his boxer briefs and kick off his shoes. I gasped at the sight of him. His cock was big and thick and everything I had ever imagined it to be. I wanted to touch it, to taste it, but I didn’t have a chance.
In one swift move, Fletcher pulled me towards his desk and propped me on top of it. His gaze was hungry, and his voice was intense. “Are you sure you want this?”
“Yes,” I said in a raspy voice but with plenty conviction.
He took a deep breath and pried my legs opened. “I don’t think I can be gentle right now.”
My whole body hummed with anticipation. Inching my hips closer to the edge of the desk—and toward. his magnificent cock—I forced my dry mouth to form words. “Then don’t. All I want is for you to take me and make me yours.”
A slow, pleased smirk formed on his lips as his eyes finally completely focused, every evidence of his inebriation completely gone. Holding the tops of my thighs, he pushed into me with one powerful roll of his hips.
My mouth opened and I whimpered with pleasure. All thoughts vanished from my mind, leaving only me and Fletcher a
nd this moment in a complete void.
Our eyes stayed locked as he gave me a moment to adjust. I had dreamt about this for so long it seemed surreal. But then, he rolled his hips again, and the pleasure that shot up my body told me it was very real.
Fletcher moved inside of me, and the friction was pure ecstasy. My body responded, giving every ounce of his efforts and delight back to him until we were both gasping and moaning. Just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, he pushed into me a bit stronger and pulled my body to his at the same time, going a bit deeper.
I tried to keep quiet, but the feeling was so intense I couldn’t hold myself and ended up calling out his name. He smiled with lust and pride as I did, and kept that pace until I was unintelligible. Then, he kept going.
Something warm and delicious started to build inside of me. It started at my core but quickly spread all over. Every orgasm I had ever had before had been underwhelming, but this one . . . This one was going to rip me apart and put me back together in one fell swoop. I knew it would.
Fletcher cursed under his breath and kept going at a relentless pace as my legs grew numb and my body was consumed by wildfire. I dug my fingers into the hard wood of his desk just as he stiffened inside of me, and together we found our release.
Gasping and shivering, I looked up at Fletcher who was still standing between my legs with his member buried inside of me, and I saw the hint of a smile on his face. Smiles were hard things to see on him, and knowing I had managed to extract one was like finding a living breathing unicorn.
Contorting myself into a semi-sitting position, I pushed my hands into his hair and brought his lips to mine. I kissed him deeply and with all the passion that was still coursing through me. He kissed me back, but the passion and fire that had been so prominent in his other kisses were no longer there.
An agonizing fear that he regretted this threatened to consume me, but I pushed the feeling aside and tacked the lack of passion in his kiss to tiredness and alcohol. I refused to feel anything other than the joy this moment brought me.
Once our mouths disconnected, Fletcher pulled out of me, kissed my cheek and helped me out of the desk. After that almost tender exchange, he gave me a sideways smile and started putting his clothes back on. Taking his cue, I did the same. We didn’t talk or cuddle, not that I was expecting us to. Sex in the office was anything but romantic, after all.
Once we were both dressed, he cleared his throat and spoke. “You should go back there; your friends will miss you.”
His tone was kind and thoughtful, but my heart sank a little. I understood what he was saying and knew he was absolutely right, but it still felt horrible to be a secret.
Knowing better than to argue, I just nodded, straightened my hair and turned towards the door. I tried to measure my strides so that I looked normal and not disappointed that he hadn’t asked me to stay with him longer.
Then, just as I was about to open the door, Fletcher called me back. “Grace.”
A hopeful smile came alive on my lips as I looked at him. He was standing by his liquor cabinet, looking all disheveled and sexy. “Yes?”
“I’ll speak to you tomorrow, okay?”
I sighed, and my shoulders sagged, but I kept my smile on as I nodded. Without another word, I walked out of the office and returned to the party—and to the loyal company of Valerie’s punch bowl.
Fletcher
I woke up with the sun slicing through my bedroom curtains. The brightness made my head hurt and my eyes blurry, but I mostly sure I was home. I wasn’t sure how I’d gotten here, but that was beside the point.
As hard as I tried to remember the previous night, I only had flashes. I remembered drinking two glasses of Whiskey as I got ready for the office party—God, I hated those things—and then drinking more once I got there. I remembered shaking hands of a lot of nameless people and then drinking even more. Aside from that, my memory was shit.
In hopes to stop the room from spinning so fast, I pushed myself into a sitting position on my bed and instantly regretted it. Although my tolerance for alcohol was higher than most people’s, I was just as susceptible to hangovers and every nasty bodily reaction that accompanies it.
Feeling my stomach turn, I got up from the bed and walked as fast as my spaghetti legs would allow to my bathroom. I arrived there just in time to hug the toilet and purge the contents of my stomach.
Once my stomach was finally empty, I got up and turned on the shower. As I waited for the water to warm, I looked at myself in the mirror and saw a faint red line that went from the top of my neck to the curve of my shoulder and then disappeared behind my back.
Confused, I turned my face and looked down at it. It seemed like a scratch, but I knew for a fact that I hadn’t slept with Charlotte in the past few days, so I had no idea how that had gotten there. Hoping that the shower would help clear my head, I pulled down my boxer briefs and stepped underneath the stream.
As the water fell onto my back, I felt the sting of, what I assumed, were more scratches. Decided to remember how those got there, I closed my eyes and forced my mind to relive the events of the previous night.
I remembered all the things that were already somewhat clear—the drinking, the handshakes—and kept forcing. That’s when my body erupted in a wave of goosebumps, and my blood ran cold.
Behind my closed lids, in the middle of all the fog, I saw Grace’s red dress. I saw it moving around her sexy body as she danced with her friends. I saw it swaying around her legs as she ran to the bathroom. I saw it moving with her breaths as we talked in the elevator, and then I saw it laying on the floor of my office as I fucked her.
Oh, Shit! I fucked Grace.
My stomach turned to stone and pulled down towards my feet. I had imagined what it would be like to have Grace for years, but no matter how much whiskey I got in me, my desire never went beyond thoughts and a few drunken kisses. It was how it had to be, and we both knew it. She wasn’t a part of my world; I wasn’t a part of hers and the company police I had created prohibited it.
With my eyes still closed, I let the water fall over my face and forced myself to remember everything that had happened. The sex had been even better than I had imagined, but somehow the regret was even worse. There was no way of keeping her without putting to waste everything I had worked for in my life. Still, now that I had made her mine I literally couldn’t imagine not having her again. It was an impossible situation; one that could cause me the one employee my company and I couldn’t function without. My head was in a war of desires that would have only one clear loser: me.
I stood underneath the water for long enough to use up all the hot water, but still, it wasn’t enough to clear my head of my mixed desires. One thing, however, was clear. I had to find a way to sober up and fix the situation.
Out of the shower, I went to my closet and got dressed in casual clothes. Then, I went to the kitchen and downed couple tablets of Vitamin B with a glass of tomato juice—my mother’s secret recipe for curing a hangover. Feeling slightly better, I picked up my phone and dialed Grace’s number as I had promised her I would.
The phone rang four times before she finally picked up. When she did, her voice was groggy as if she was still half asleep. “Fletcher?”
Hearing her say my name first thing in the morning made me smile. As much as I shouldn’t, I couldn’t help but imagine how she looked at that very moment.
I shook my head, purging the thought from my mind. “Did I wake you?”
“No.” I could hear the lie in her voice but decided against commenting. “What can I help you with?”
Honestly, I had no idea what to say. It was rare for me to be in this situation. For twenty years, my life had revolved around my company—a place where I was assertive and always in control. But with Grace, I felt like the world was upside down. I had no control over myself and no confidence on how to act. It was an annoying novelty, and I was over it.
“Can you meet me for coffee?” I aske
d in the nicest tone I could muster. “I want to talk to you.”
Something crashed to the floor in the background, and she swore under her breath. Having never witnessed such a reaction from her before, I smiled at my first glance at the real Grace.
“Okay,” she said in a strained voice like she was reaching to grab something far away. Then, she added, “But I drank about ten cups of Valerie’s punch last night, which equals to a hundred normal drinks. It may take a while for me to get ready.”
The idea of Grace hungover was yet another thing that made her a bit more real in my eyes.
I did my best to keep my voice neutral as I replied, “That’s fine. Would an hour be okay?”
“Yeah, that’ll work.”
Before we hung up, I told her the name of a café I liked close to the office. I had no idea where she lived, but guessed it was close enough to the office to make it doable for her.
I took care of some personal business and then left my apartment with twenty minutes to spare. Instead of calling my driver, Charlie, I decided to take the car out myself. Driving was not something I did often, but being behind the wheel never failed to help me think.
The Lemon Squeeze was one of the oldest cafés in town and the last one to still hold on to its old-school charm. It had the perfect mix of coziness and greasy food for a day such as this.
I sat at a little table by the window and ordered a French press of their strongest blend and a variety of doughnuts. My order had just arrived when Grace walked in.
Her looks were yet another surprise to me. Instead of her elegant dresses, perfect hairdos, and flawless makeup, she was sporting a cotton maxi dress, fresh face and huge sunglasses which she propped atop her head.
Raising my hand, I gave her a little wave and got a smile in return. However, the smile quickly fell off her lips, making space to an awful awkwardness.