Avoiding Mr. Right

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Avoiding Mr. Right Page 8

by C. J. Ellisson


  It’s a text from Andy. On my way up. Can you let me in?

  Yup.

  Within five minutes, we’re seated at the kitchen island and eating. I’m hyper aware

  of him sitting next to me, his jean clad thigh brushing against my own. I’ve caught

  him stealing a few sly looks down the front of my shirt. Good. That was the goal when

  I picked it. If I can keep him off balance maybe I can get the upper hand on this

  puzzling, but attractive, man.

  We clean up after the meal and leave for the elevator.

  “You’ve got a nice place, Carla.”

  “Thanks,” I say while hitting the button for the lobby. “You almost sound surprised.”

  Andy shrugs, his hands in his pockets making the movement look cute. “My sister is

  a slob. I never know what to expect in a woman’s apartment.”

  I laugh, the idea of Andy turning his nose up at a beautiful woman with a messy apartment

  strikes me as hysterical. “You’re a hard guy to figure out.”

  “Me? I’m hard to figure out?” Andy coughs and it turns into choking.

  The elevator opens. “You okay?” His choking stops and he glares at me. “What? You

  think you’re an easy guy to understand?”

  “I think you’re the one who’s a hard nut to crack. Not me.”

  “Me?” I say as we walk across the lobby. “Aren’t I the ideal hook-up? I like to have

  fun with no strings attached. What guy doesn’t want that?”

  Before I even anticipate Andy might react to my statement, the man pins me against

  the wall near the front door. “You’re more than a hook-up, can’t you see that?” His

  big blues eyes stare into mine, daring me to disagree.

  “I—”

  His lips descend on mine, covering my mouth with their warmth and intensity. After

  a moment, the tip of his tongue traces along my bottom lip. His voice comes out soft,

  the heat of his breath fanning my face. “If you don’t expect much from the man you’re

  with, then why waste your time with him?” He kisses me again, this time delving deeper,

  encouraging my tongue to play with his. “You are worth more. Don’t ever forget it.”

  A throat clears, the sound coming from the direction of the elevators. A glance reveals

  it’s the building manager, arms loaded with tools and supplies. “Sorry to interrupt.

  I need to get by.”

  Heat rushes to my face and I hear the harping voice of my mother in my head, belittling

  me for such uncouth behavior. Andy nods to the man as he goes by, unconcerned by being

  caught. I fan my cheeks after the older man passes.

  “Oh, please,” Andy says when he sees my actions. “Is my little durian embarrassed

  by some innocent PDA? Is this the same woman who opened my pants in the elevator a

  week ago?”

  “Durian? What’s that?” I refuse to acknowledge my less than stellar drunken behavior

  of that Friday. We all have low points, and that was mine. Examining why it was a low point for me is something I’d like to avoid facing.

  “A durian is a prickly fruit.” At my look of confusion he continues. “Have you ever

  seen the greenish brown fruit with spikes all over it in the produce section?” I shake

  my head. “Well, it’s thorny on the outside, but sweet on the inside.” He tugs a short

  lock of my hair before stealing another brief kiss. “Like you.”

  A smile lights my face and curious warmth spreads in my chest. Sure, he may have just

  referred to me as a god-awful looking piece of fruit, but it was a sweet comparison,

  nonetheless. Andy grabs my hand the moment we leave my building, and holds tighter

  when I try to tug free.

  “Would it kill you to hold my hand?” he asks.

  His blunt question flusters me and I glance away. “Uh… no.” I look back toward him

  with humor. “Unless you’ve got some rare skin to skin transferrable disease, but then

  I would’ve gotten it when we…” I belatedly realize I’m babbling, so I shut up.

  Andy laughs and gives my hand a tug. “Yeah, if I did have something nasty like that,

  you’d already have it.”

  Holding his hand feels strangely… intimate. Like we’ve made a connection in a crowd

  with the simple physical contact. Warmth travels up my arm and I like it. A glance

  at Andy reveals a smug, almost satisfied expression on his face.

  “What are you so happy about, mister?”

  In a flash, the look is gone, to be replaced by a soft glow of contentment. “Nothing

  much.” He raises our joined hands. “Nice to hold the durian without getting pricked.”

  “Ha! Keep it up. I can turn the bitchiness on in a heartbeat if you miss it. Just

  let me know.”

  We ride the subway, Andy not letting go of my hand the whole time. I felt a little

  unsure at one point, and tried again to remove my hand from his. He held fast and

  wouldn’t let go. It was oddly comforting. Once we arrive at Dress for Success I make a stand.

  “Okay. I’m cool with the handholding. It’s cute. But not here, all right? I need to

  get work done and not be tethered to you like a lost child.”

  Andy’s startled laughter spills out and he releases my hand, raising both of his in

  a surrender gesture. “Relax, Carla. I can find other ways to keep my hands occupied.”

  I walk past him and he lightly smacks my ass as I enter.

  I glare back at him and he smiles. “You wore those jeans to tempt me. Don’t deny it.

  I’m just succumbing to what you planned all along.”

  The afternoon zips by in a blur. Andy charms everyone he comes into contact with,

  his ready smile and easy-going manner making him popular among the weekend crew. At

  one point, in the back room, Andy pinned me to the wall for another soul-searching

  kiss. Damned if that man doesn’t have a way with his mouth.

  At four o’clock we wrap up and leave. Conflicted feelings battle for supremacy in

  my mind. Do I trust what I’ve seen of Andy or brush him off before we take things

  further? Despite the great day we’ve had together, I still need time to figure out

  what’s happening between us.

  Andy takes my hand again as we exit. “Want to grab dinner? Round out our date nicely

  with a full stomach?”

  I trip over my own feet and catch myself with the help of his steady hold on my hand.

  “Date?” I don my snarkiest expression. “I thought dates started with dinner?”

  He shrugs, unconcerned with my bitch face. “They can start with breakfast, Dury. No

  rules to what a date has to be.”

  “Dury? Where did that come from?”

  “When you get all distant and standoffish I think of it as your prickly coming out.

  Dury, durian fruit?” His devilish grin calls me, begging me to smack it off his face.

  “It’s okay though, I’m getting used to it. Think it’s your defense mechanism. Bet

  you do it unconsciously.”

  Considering I put quite a bit of work into being a bitch, I let him think what he

  wants. Me, being defensive? I don’t think so. Apparently the disbelief shows on my

  face because Andy stops our trek to the subway, turning me to face him.

  “Who hurt you, Carla? Who made you think all men run from a good woman when we find

  her? Was it that Johnny guy you mentioned the first night we were together?”

  Shame fills me over my actions that night. I cannot believe I did such an insensitive

  thing as to call out another man�
�s name. Half asleep or not, it was a shitty thing

  to do. And it certainly makes me examine my behavior a little more closely than I’d

  like.

  I duck my head, avoiding his piercing gaze. “Hey, I’m sorry about my thoughtless slip.

  Johnny was just a college fling. We spent a week together and that was it. Nothing

  more.”

  Andy steps closer, pulling our clasped hands up to his chest. “If not him, then who?

  Who made you think men can’t be trusted?”

  Unbidden, the image of my father fills my mind. A shudder runs over me and I pull

  away from Andy’s warmth, breaking our clasped hands. “I’ve got to go. I had fun today.

  Thanks.” I step away, toward the street, raising my hand to flag down an approaching

  cab.

  “Wait!” Andy’s voice rises over the traffic noise. “Dammit, Carla! Talk to me!”

  The cab veers to a stop in front of me and I slip inside, shaking from the image and

  feelings Andy stirred up. I know I’m running. I know it’s childish. But I can’t handle

  this with him staring at me. I need to be alone.

  Do I really not trust men because of my father? Have I always treated each man as

  a short-term fling because I couldn’t do the simplest thing in life and give my trust?

  My vision blurs as tears gather. What a crappy way to end a nice day.

  Chapter Twelve

  Andrew

  It’s Monday and Carla wouldn’t answer my texts yesterday except to tell me she was

  spending the day with Heather. I hope her friend talked some sense into her. Maybe

  time with her will have put Carla in a better mood. Standoffish, shrewish, and confused

  is more than I can handle after no communication for the rest of the weekend.

  “Morning, Carla.” I stop at the entrance to her cubicle, trying hard not to look too

  interested. “Feel like getting lunch together later?”

  “Er… umm. I have plans.”

  “Really? Sure you’re not just avoiding me?”

  “Shhh!” she says while looking to see if anyone is listening. “Not at work, Andy!”

  Tension seems to coil every muscle in her body and I’m thinking she could do with

  a little distraction at work. Let that tightness out. “Really?” I run a finger down

  the cube wall, squelching the desire to touch her creamy skin. “You’ve been working

  hard lately, Carla.”

  “Yeah, well, my dream isn’t corporate work forever and I need to pay my dues to build

  a name.”

  I lean in over the cubicle wall, lowering my voice, “I never said my dream was corporate

  work forever, either. You underestimate me.”

  “No! I didn’t mean you… I just need to—”

  I interrupt her. “You need to lighten up.”

  “Lighten up?” The red creeping up her cheeks is not from embarrassment. “Working my

  ass off is the only way I’ll be able to control my life and start my own advertising

  firm one day.”

  I thump the cubical wall lightly, eager to get her to meet my eyes. “Giving up control

  is another way to take control.” She’s staring down at her desk again, ignoring me.

  “Who do you have lunch plans with?” I ask on a whim. I think I’ve got her number.

  “Oh? Um… no one you know.”

  I thought she was lying to blow me off, but maybe I’m wrong. I tilt my head to the

  side and smile. “Try me.”

  “The big guy from the bar. Brian.” A smug look forms on her pretty face, almost like

  a challenge. “He’s a stockbroker. Did you meet him?”

  Bile churns in my stomach. I can’t fucking believe after Saturday she’s running to

  another guy. I won’t be so easily dismissed. I hold my emotions in check, unwilling

  to let her see what her admission does to me. “No, but I remember him.” Easing away

  from the steel and fabric partition, I head down to my own little corporate cube.

  “Have fun.”

  The idea of Carla and Brian having lunch together haunts me while I pass over a spreadsheet

  again. My Dury is a complicated woman. Mine? Do I have the right to think that after

  a one-night stand and a few stolen moments? I know she likes what I’m doing to her—I’ve

  never had a woman be so responsive to a few little slaps on the ass.

  While I have no hidden desire to become a true dominant or submissive, I did do research

  online over the weekend about the lifestyle. She definitely fits the classic mold

  of a controlling woman who needs to let go to enjoy sex. In a submissive role, she’d

  be trusting her lover to fulfill her every desire. But, I doubt she’ll listen to me

  explain it, especially after she just announced she’s having lunch with someone else.

  I’ll have to show her.

  As the idea percolates, I smile. This is going to be fun.

  At eleven-thirty I mosey down to her desk. “Can you spare five minutes?” My innocent

  smile firmly in place.

  “Huh?” Carla looks up at me, a distracted look on her face.

  “Give me five minutes, Carla. I’m not asking for a lot.”

  Her expression turns suspicious. “What are you up to?”

  Walking around the partition I grab her hand and pull her up out of her chair. “Shhh…

  Just follow me.”

  “Andy… I’m not interested in playing your games at work. And I need to leave to meet

  Brian in a little bit.”

  “Five minutes. That’s it. Surely you can spare that for an old friend?”

  I lead her into an empty, windowless conference room and lock the door behind us.

  “When did you make plans with Brian?”

  She blushes and looks away. “It was after I thought you were with another woman on

  Thursday.”

  “Ah yes, my sister. But now that you know that’s not the case, why are you still going?”

  “I forgot about it and canceling last minute seemed really bitchy.”

  A chuckle escapes me. “You save all your bitchiness for me, is that it?” Slipping

  a handkerchief out of my pocket, I fold it and press it softly to her lips. “Bite

  down on this and don’t make a sound.”

  Heat fills her gaze as she allows the gag to slide between her lips. “You can take

  the gag out anytime you want, Carla. You can tell me to stop if things go too far.”

  Her eyes widen but she nods her head quick enough. “I’m going to spread you open on

  this conference table and lick you like you’ve never experienced before.” Lifting

  her up by her hips, I place her bottom on the cool slab. “I bet not even Johnny could

  do a better job.”

  A small choking sound comes from her, but I’m not sure if it’s laughter or mortification

  that I’ve brought up her ex-lover’s name again. Hell, I figure if he was worth a damn

  they’d still be together, so I think teasing her is fun.

  Pushing her skirt up around her hips, I see she’s prepared for her sexy lunch with

  Brain. I tamp down my jealousy and admire the beauty before me. I will make her mine.

  Smooth skin peeks between the tops of thigh high stockings and her silky red underwear.

  “You think the brokerage guy knows how to tongue a woman right?” I grasp the crimson

  material and pull her panties down her thighs and over her heels, slipping them into

  my suit coat pocket.

  Spreading her legs, her shaven, glistening folds of skin reveal she’s eager and ready

  for my attention. Even if she won’t admit it. “I bet Brian is good a
t getting his dick in and nothing else. Doesn’t think of the long game.”

 

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