Envy (Seven Deadly Sins)

by Laura Cooper

  I could hear him coming down the hall, and I purposely stood steadfast, continuing my gaze out the window. A sunset like this was exactly what this dress was made for, and I’d only rearranged my pose a few times before it was just right. There would be nothing left to his imagination when he saw me. He stepped up behind me; his manly scent mixed with fresh soap and a smattering of his unusual cologne. He slipped his hands onto my hips and sighed deeply, relaxing into the view with me. His lips bit playfully into my bare shoulder. Frankly, I was hoping he’d press into me, let me feel his appreciation against my nearly naked ass, but no, Carlton Michaud was toying with me. Now that I knew his wicked secret needs were the same as mine, my patience had diminished. I wanted to scream, enough already! Take me into that room and let’s see how many batteries we can render useless. Of course that would give me away as a spy. No, I needed to be smooth. At that very moment I uncrossed my arms and felt my nipples harden against the soft cotton front of my sundress. There would be no mistaking my interest level the moment I turned around. His strong hands squeezed my hips firmly, perhaps enlightened by some pheromone gushing invisibly from my pores. He spun me around, pulling my lips to his as my merlot almost spilled on the floor.

  His hot lips burned into mine, and his tongue snaked its way past my teeth and deep into my mouth. I sucked it, like a little cock, devouring it as if I might not ever be kissed again. He pulled me into him; his excitement was now firmly planted across my stomach and straining through his shorts. I slid my hand behind his neck, into the collar of his cotton shirt and through the back of his curly locks. I grabbed a handful and pulled him even deeper into my mouth.

  He finally broke our embrace long enough to take my wine glass and set it on the table, then pulled me back to him. My face buried in his sparse curls of chest hair as I took a deep breath of him. He was life, freedom, excitement, passion, all rolled up in the most delicious package of a man. Slowly, but as sure as the noonday sun, I was becoming addicted to him.

  I wanted to keep my eyes open, to see his every movement, to watch his excitement grow stronger. To see his long eyelashes as they fluttered across my skin. However, visual confirmation of his utter and complete sexiness wasn’t really needed, and my eyes remained closed. My body was telling me that it was already experiencing much better sensations than my sight could provide. It didn’t matter. I really didn’t need to see him; his touch nearly sent me into my first orgasm. I felt myself being guided down to the floor, and I went willingly. He lay beside me on the thick rug as his hands canvassed my body, paying particular attention to my rock hard nipples that now strained against the cotton fabric, begging to be released.

  I felt him move over me, first sliding my flip flops off and running his thick fingers across the arch of my foot and up my calf. The whore in me wanted to spread my legs, but I insisted to myself, let this play out! Now both of his hands were on my calves, sensually massaging them as he slid them up my thighs to the hem of my sundress. He deftly moved under the fabric, pushing his way up the inside of my thighs. I parted them cloyingly as he pushed my dress up. His hot breath moved across my upper thigh as his silky lips and fiery tongue trailed its way up to my crotch. There was no turning back now; I was completely immersed in his touch.

  He spread my legs with cautious fingers as his kisses and licks invaded my inner thigh, inching towards my sex. Soft moans escaped my lips, describing to him how his touches pleasured me. His fingers traced over the small front of the panties that barely covered my sex, and then he buried his face deep into me. The onslaught was so quick and determined that my adrenaline raced inside me. My skin felt hot to the touch, as though I were riding to the highest point on Thunder Mountain just waiting with my hands in the air for the roller coaster to send me screaming and cheering to the ground. My right hand squeezed my breast and toyed absently with my nipple as the fingers on my left hand wove their way into his curly hair. I grabbed a handful, once again, and pulled him into me. His tongue pressed hard against my clit, and within seconds I was pushed over the edge of a powerful orgasm.

  He continued to lick me, fighting firmly against my strong thighs as I tried to capture him between them. My feet moved to his shoulders as his hands pressed against the back of my thighs. The mighty orgasm slowed and assumed a more languid, relaxed wind down. Uncontrollable waves of its remnants still trembled within me. Carlton had no intention of letting my muscles sleep; he hooked his fingers under my thong and pulled it to the side, replacing his tongue with the head of his cock. He leaned forward, pushing into me as his come covered lips pressed against mine.

  Once again I devoured him, reveling in my own juices as I licked and sucked his lips. His passion was evident, and his thrusts came deeper and harder until he finally reached my wall. I bucked beneath him, barely able to keep up with his strength and stamina. He was an athlete over me, pounding me again and again with his long, thick cock. Orgasm after orgasm shot through me until I could no longer distinguish them from one another. Each plunge into my depths sent me reeling with a more intense sensation. I found myself, screaming, scratching, groaning, and yes even clawing as he fucked me. Then I understood; there was a primal need asserting its presence inside me. I’d wanted men to come before, but never like this. My hips acted on their own accord as they met his thrusts with powerful equality. Uncontrollable throbs deep inside me massaged his hot come through his cock, convincing his semen that it desperately needed to be inside of me. With the last slam of his hipbone to mine, he let it go, no longer capable of keeping it inside him. My body had conquered his with a dance of seduction so unruly and guttural that I blushed. His face, now buried into my shoulder finally lifted to mine and he stared at me as though shocked as hell to find me still beneath him. His kiss was no longer one of strained passion; now it was tender, caring and protective. “I’m falling in love with you, Liz,” he whispered between our touching lips. His tongue intertwined with mine keeping my response silent, I nodded in agreement… I was most definitely falling in love. He rolled over onto the rug next to me, and kissed me softly as the sun finally disappeared over the horizon.

  Chapter 3

  I slid on the skirt Palmer had laid out for me to wear today. It didn’t escape me that he was getting progressively more seductive with his choices for my apparel. He was up to something no doubt. Perhaps trying to get his sister married off to a wealthy attorney so she’d stop following him around the world? My eyes scanned my thighs which were highly visible in the short gray skirt. Hmmm… I definitely need to have a talk with him. Was he shortening my skirts at night while I slept? It reminded me of the fairy tale involving a cobbler and mice. At night the mice would come out and repair all the shoes in his shop, the cobbler would awake to find their masterful work in the mornings. Were little miniature fashion designers roaming my apartment at night? I scrutinized my appearance in the full length mirror, ah well, as Palmer would say… ‘girlfriend, we ain’t in Kansas anymore!’

  The front door to our apartment creaked open, “Have a great day, Liz. Love ya’.” The door slammed and the locks clicked behind my brother as he headed off for class. I sighed and studied myself in the mirror one last time. Maybe I’m getting taller?

  After grabbing a macchiato from the corner shop, I readied myself for the two block walk to my office. Usually Carlton was waiting for me downstairs; we’d walk together. The doorman at our apartment building explained that he’d had an early start this morning, but said that he’d text me later in the day. I thanked the doorman with a five dollar bill for passing the message along.

  As I settled into my desk on the fifth floor of the Michaud Building, I noticed a red high alert intra-office email had come in an hour ago. I clicked on the email; it was from Paul Standish, my direct supervisor.

  As I read the information on the screen in front of me I leaned back in my desk chair with wide eyes. I wondered what the chances were that my first real assignment involved the Port of Charleston. Oh sure, it made sense that i
f you have a Charleston attorney on your staff, you should utilize them in this instance. Still, it unnerved me that the law firm I would be dealing with was Frazier, Rice, Rutledge and Calhoun. I stared at the screen in front of me as the shiver pulsed through my veins. No matter how hard I’d tried, the image of Benton Frazier hadn’t totally vanished from my memory.

  I still ached for his strong, sensual control which had allowed me release from the burdens of responsibility during the most stressful times of my life. It struck me as humorous that the rest of the world deemed dominant/subordinate relationships as fresh and new. Books by the billions were out there depicting some poor virgin who’d fallen head over heels for a millionaire only to find herself chained up in his dungeon. Southern women know all about dom/sub relationships; they were bred to be subs. It’d been that way for centuries, and they chuckled innocently each time a new best seller hit the charts. “Such frivolous trash these women read!” they’d declare as they put another batch of homemade biscuits into their ovens. I’d been raised differently; my parents had convinced me that I would never need to depend on a man. But I had depended on Benton. I depended on him to help me escape from the onslaught of unpleasantries that had landed on my shoulders when my parents died.

  Rehashing old memories wasn’t getting me anywhere. I stood up and smoothed my too short skirt and headed for Paul Standish’s office. I tapped on the door jam, “Paul, I just got your email. What time have they scheduled the meeting with the Charleston firm?”

  Paul’s bald head lifted from the stack of files on his desk in front of him, “Ah, Liz. Thanks for coming. It looks like the rednecks will be here in an hour.”

  I stepped into his office as he motioned for me to take a seat across from him. “Heads up on that, most Charlestonians prefer not to be called rednecks,” I smiled teasingly.

  Paul scoured me from his desk with a laugh, “I guess not. Anyway, thanks for assisting me with this. I think it’s fairly cut and dry, but Webster Shipping is one of our largest clients. If they want us to mediate, then something is going on.” He slid the stack of files across his desk in my direction, “Well, here’s the information. You have an hour to study it and figure out what the fuck they’re up to. Then meet me at the elevators at ten. Any questions?”

  I hesitated, tempted to ask the names of the Charleston attorney’s who’d come up to meet with us, but instead shook my head to indicate no. Frazier, Rice, Rutledge and Calhoun was a huge firm, and chances of them sending Benton Frazier were slim. I headed back to my desk to read the files. By ten minutes of ten, I had a firm grasp of the problems and some fairly good solutions. I stood in front of the bank of elevators clutching the files and waited for Paul.

  “Alrighty then, let’s head up and do this thing,” Paul announced as he waddled towards me. I wasn’t sure how well he was going to be received by Charleston lawyers. He had that grungy, lazy look about him, as though he didn’t own an iron and was defiantly resisting just shaving off the few strands of hair that grew long on his head. Top that with my skirt suddenly shortening by three inches this morning, and I was sure we were headed for disaster.

  We reached the top floor in a matter of seconds. The receptionist smiled and waved us down the hall to the conference room. Paul stepped ahead of me and pushed one of the double doors open to allow me to step into the silent room. My breath left my chest as my eyes landed on Benton Frazier, engaged in conversation with Carlton.

  I pulled the stack of files closer to my chest for security. My nipples stood at attention at the sight of the two men so casually chatting. Benton’s blue eyes met mine in a flurry of passion. I saw him devour each and every inch of me from my shoes to my tightly bound hair; he paused noticeably at my thighs. Already I was shaking; he immediately stood and rounded the table towards me sure he was going to bend down and yank the hem out of my skirt. I was sure he was appalled by its shortness in the office. “Good morning Liz! I was going to give you a call this afternoon. See if you wanted to meet up for dinner? But, here you are!” He stepped close to me and pulled me into his arms. Outwardly it would seem like two old schoolmates meeting up after a long absence; an innocent hug. But Benton maneuvered his hand behind the files I clutched to my chest and pinched my nipple sharply. Water formed in the corner of my eyes as he pulled away. I struggled for quick composure, but it was useless. All parts of me were now on full alert; I was starved for more. My brain flung a plethora of curse words at me silently as my pussy responded to Benton’s presence with a purr. I hated myself.

  Carlton cleared his throat from his seat at the conference table, “Mr. Standish, Ms. Martin, have a seat.” His voice was stern and disapproving.

  We took our seats, my body still reeling from Benton’s touch. Carlton forced a smile, “I’m glad to see that you and Mr. Frazier know one another, Ms. Martin. That’ll make this go smoothly I’m sure. I take it you went to law school together?”

  I knew he was perusing for information. Benton’s eyes hadn’t left me since I’d walked into the room and the tension I felt surely translated to the rest of them. After a calculated pause for effect, he gazed at Carlton, “Liz and I have known one another since high school, Mr. Michaud. We’re old friends.” His smile was near sinister as he caught the scent of my relationship with Carlton like a wolf after a trail of fresh blood. Benton was the master at human signals; it made him a dangerous foe in the courtroom as well as the bedroom. My nipple still ached from his pinch, yet I knew he’d done it to check my level of interest. If my body hadn’t betrayed me, I wouldn’t be near tears now. Even sitting next to Carlton Michaud, Benton still had power over me. I cursed under my breath; this was no way to start a new case. Where was my fucking professionalism?

  But Carlton studied Benton with a tight smile, “That’s great. Now let’s get down to business because I’m on a tight schedule.”

  *-*-*-*-*-*-*

  The meeting lasted an hour; which was exactly an hour longer than I’d ever wanted to spend in a room with Benton Frazier again. He unsettled me. Since the morning I’d discovered the blond paralegal tied to the bed in his downtown apartment, I’d promised myself that I was done with him. Now here he was, dressed in the finest suit Berlin’s Men’s Store on King Street could offer. The epitome of the species known as the Charleston lawyer; his hair was tousled as though he’d only just stepped off his boat after fishing in the harbor. His lackadaisical attitude would come across to Carlton as disrespectful, but at home it exuded confidence, as though he didn’t have a care in the world. With shock I found myself nearly defending his Charleston ways throughout the meeting. Carlton seemed ready to eat him up and spit him out at any second, and I was surprised. I didn’t take Carlton for a man who so easily discounted other attorney’s. I wanted to warn him somehow that pissing off Benton Frazier wasn’t as harmless as one would expect. Benton was downright dangerous as hell behind all that boyish charm. I was all too aware of his capabilities.

  “Since we’re all settled here I hope you all will forgive me. I have another appointment waiting. Ms. Martin? I’d hoped to take Mr. Frazier to dinner this evening, why don’t you join us?”

  My first instinct was to shake my head violently and definitely NO, but a warning flash in Carlton’s eyes told me that it wasn’t so much of an invitation to dinner as an order. “Yes sir. What time shall I expect you?” I was sure my lips were blue and trembling.

  Benton was still sitting at the conference table where he’d been watching my reaction to Carlton intently. Carlton’s eyes narrowed on me, calculating my fear level, “I’ll send the car for you at nine. Is that alright with you, Mr. Frazier?” His face turned back to the table with absolute resolve.

  Benton barely moved his eyes from me to Carlton. “Sounds great. I was hoping for a little New York nightlife!” I could tell his smooth ‘devil may care’ expressions were already wearing on Carlton. For a millisecond I almost thought that his eyes were going to roll, but he grinned, “Fine. My driver will pick you up from yo
ur hotel at eight thirty, Mr. Frazier. I look forward to it.”

  “Yep!” Benton’s face told me he already viewed this as some sort of competition, he’d cheerfully accepted Carlton’s challenge. Carlton may not know the look on his face, but I knew it. It was the same look he wore playing football in high school, the same look he had when he hunted wild boar, and the same look he had when he mastered me. Benton wasn’t one to lose; he’d never lost a game in his life until I walked out the door and left him. Now he was here, and I could see in his eyes that he still considered me his property. That Carlton Michaud and I seemed to have some sort of relationship would be a fair game for him, and I was the prize. The thought that perhaps I no longer wanted to be his ‘prize’ wouldn’t occur to him. What I wanted was far away in his mind because he was too intent on his wants. He had planned our lives to the ultimate detail. We’d marry right out of law school, join his father’s firm, and I’d take needed breaks to give him two, possibly three children. His mistress on the side was a mere necessity, much like a household appliance. I’d been okay with most of it until I found the mistress already tied to his headboard just before his Graduation party. To me it’d been a sneak peek into a future life with Benton, and it disgusted me.

  I stood up from the conference table feeling suddenly nauseated. “I will have the updated files ready this evening then. If you’ll excuse me now, I have a ton of work to do.” I bristled past Carlton without looking at him. He set me up for this! Damn his nosiness into my life! I would’ve preferred to strangle him on my way out the conference room; instead I shut the door behind me and bolted for the elevator.

  “Hold that door!” Carlton yelled as he headed towards me. I quickly reached for the elevator controls and repeatedly pushed the close door button. His hand slid deftly in between the closing metal doors and he squeezed inside.