by Lex Martin
Alyssa buttons her shirt, and I zip and button my pants. Just as I finish, Blake opens the door to her office as we are standing there, more than a foot apart, and completely dressed. Thank God.
“Yes? Can’t you see we are busy?” Alyssa snarls. I actually like the way she talks to him, but he pays her no attention and walks straight to me and hands me a stack of papers.
“Remember the project you did last week? Can you do that again for me? Today before you leave. I need it in the morning.”
“Do it yourself. Travis has enough work to do,” Alyssa says, taking the papers from my hands and shoving them back to Blake. I’m not sure what to say.
He opens his mouth and closes it before he says what he wants. He’s fuming, but I suppose he knows better than to mess with her. After another second, Blake slams the door and leaves us alone.
“Alyssa, that’s insubordination. I have to do whatever he asks.”
She grabs my tie and pulls me to her lips. “You’ll do whatever I tell you to do, Travis. And I want that dick soon. Whenever you’re ready.” She pushes her lips against mine, and I force myself to kiss her back. Relief washes over me, and I know that I’ve bought myself some time, but I’m not sure how much.
We walk over to the oval table, and I give her a rundown of what I’ve accomplished. To my surprise, Alyssa actually did her half. She’s not well rounded in foreign policies either, and I almost verbatim tell her what Viola told me. Our meeting ends on a positive note, and I’m feeling a little better about our project with a little hope that she might actually pull her weight.
I grab a granola bar from the break room and decide to skip lunch.
When I return to my office, two stacks of papers are sitting on my desk. There’s a note on the top, from the office of Blake James, and all it says is, have this done by the morning. Instead of giving me one, he’s doubled my workload again.
I check the time and know that I’ll be here later than I want.
The rest of my day is fucked, just as I predicted it would be.
Chapter 15
Viola
The sun is setting over the horizon, and I mark another day off my mental calendar. Only eleven more days and I’ll be back to my dorm, in my bed where there’s no Travis or rules or temptation. I’m actually looking forward to it, or so I’ve been telling myself between reading economics and finance books and trying to convince myself that Travis King is the plague. But all I can think about is how sexy he looks shirtless and how his tongue brushes against his lower lip right before he says something he knows he shouldn’t. Ugh!
Back in high school, Travis was part of the “in” crowd. A jock, good-looking, always a too-good-for-you attitude. He’d smart off to the teachers, get sent to the principal's office, but rarely had to pay the consequences. Ms. Klein was a young principal, so I’m sure she didn’t mind having a guy like Travis in her office as often as he was sent there. Being the basketball team starter didn’t hurt either.
Needing a break from my thoughts, I decide to order a cheese pizza. As I’m waiting for the delivery to arrive, there’s a knock on the door. I check the peephole, but the porch is empty. I think nothing of it and go back to reading. Just as I’ve finished reading another chapter, the doorbell rings again. This time, it’s the pizza deliveryman, and as soon as I hand him some cash, he bends down and picks up a small box with a cute little red bow on it.
“I think this is for you,” he says, placing it on top of the pizza box.
“Oh…thank you,” I say, staring at the box with confusion. He nods and walks back to his car.
I close the door behind me and place the pizza on the table. Staring at the box, I chew my lower lip, wondering who it could be for or who it’s from. There’s no tag or name on it and the more I stare at it, the deeper the temptation to open it gets. I can’t even think about food anymore because curiosity has gotten the best of me. I check my phone and see that it’s already after eight. Travis isn’t home yet, so maybe just a small peek?
I want to rip off the bow and see what’s inside. I pull the neatly tied ribbon from the package, but then hesitate for a split second before talking myself back into opening it. I tear the corner of the brown paper and push my finger under the tape and pop it from the box. Slowly, I unfold the flaps and inside lays a pair of lace panties and an envelope. I hook the panties on my finger and place them on the table hoping not to catch some sort of disease from them.
I turn the envelope over and see the words To My Baby written on the front. My heart hammers in my chest as I peel it open. I’m certain this gift isn’t for me and I should stop, but the rational part of me isn’t strong enough to look away, especially if it’s from one of Travis’s bimbos.
I pull a handful of pictures from the envelope and begin flipping through them.
“Oh my God…” I murmur to myself, unable to look away. They’re all of the same busty blonde, posing naked on a large bed in only a pair of bold red heels. Realization sets in that I recognize her, which really isn’t surprising, considering how many of Travis’s one-night stands I’ve come face-to-face with as he not-so-casually kicked them out.
Except the more I stare at her features; the flash of recognition isn’t from meeting her at the house.
The girl from his office…she was walking out of his office one of the days I brought him lunch. The longer I think about it, the more I remember. Had I walked in five seconds sooner, I’m almost positive I would’ve witnessed something that would’ve scarred me for life.
I notice she changes her poses in each photo but leaves nothing to the imagination. Toward the end of the stack, there’s a series of photos with her and a guy whose face is shielded.
Against my better judgment, I bring the picture closer and immediately recognize the ink layered on his arm.
They’re of her and…Travis.
I swallow, feeling a huge lump in my throat.
The photos with him aren’t Polaroids like the others. They’re almost grainy as if printed from a security camera, and upon closer inspection, I see she’s written on the back—Alyssa + Travis.
The lump in my throat grows larger as I put the pieces together in my head. He’s been driving me absolutely wild, touching me, kissing me, crossing every boundary I’ve set in place, and he’s been messing around with this Alyssa girl from his work, giving her the same hope I once felt.
Except that hope had resurfaced and all those feelings back from when I was only twelve years old were recurring.
The photos fall out of my hands and scatter across the table and floor like a deck of cards, landing face up. Alyssa stares up at me with her piercing green eyes as if she’s telling me something. An unspoken message that she’s claiming Travis as hers.
I stand frozen, looking over the photos and feeling numb. I never should’ve opened it.
My stomach growls, reminding me that I need to eat. I open the pizza box, knowing my appetite has fled the scene, but I force myself to take a few bites. I sit at the table and try not to look at the blonde bombshell with her legs wide open, showing everything she has to offer. I grab one and flip it over, then another, and another, and realize words are written on the back of each picture.
All for you.
Wet for you, baby.
Love the way you taste.
Forget Viola. You’re mine.
I almost choke on the piece of pizza I’m chewing. Why the hell does she know my name? Or know of me at all?
I flip over the last one that reads, The other night was perfect!
I flip it back over to her making kissy lips as she blows one to the camera. What the hell? The other night? Which other night? The night when I lost myself to his touch? The other night when he undressed me and put me in bed? The other night when he went all caveman about Jason? The same night he smelled like another woman’s perfume.
It suddenly begins to make sense.
Just when I think I’m finally cracking him, something like this happen
s, and I’m reminded of who he really is—a player who has a different woman for each day of the week. The feelings have never been mutual, and he’s always made that very clear.
It takes me back to our teenage years when all I wanted was him, while he was out having everyone else. I should’ve never romanticized the thought of him or allowed him to touch me. The images of him with her make me sick to my stomach. It’s a familiar feeling that I know all too well.
Hurt and anger boil inside me as I think of the way I felt back then and how I feel it again.
It’s because I know panties and pictures aren’t something a one-night stand sends to a doorstep as a gift. Travis is a lot of things, but he wouldn’t be stupid enough to mess around with a girl at work when he knows it could jeopardize everything he’s worked for, but maybe that’s giving him too much credit. We’re talking about Travis King—thinks only with his dick in mind and nothing else.
I grab my cell and snap a single picture of the images scattered across the table and send him a text.
Viola: You disgust me, Travis.
I turn off my phone before he can send a reply because I don’t care anymore. I don’t want to care anymore. As I sit at the table and stare at the blank wall, I remember being so in love with him. I was a stupid girl with a stupid crush, but even then, I deserved more.
When Travis started dating, I felt like my insides were being ripped into a million little pieces. I couldn’t stand to hear the girl’s name, and I didn’t want to see them together. So, I made it my mission to avoid him as much as possible. I thought I was strong enough to play his game, but I’m only allowing myself to get hurt again. For just a small fraction of time, in some fucked-up sort of way, I thought I was maybe more than just another notch on his “girls I made come” bedpost.
I place the pizza box in the fridge and leave my books where they are. After turning off all the lights, I go straight into Drew’s room and lock the door. I shouldn’t give two shits about what or who Travis does, and starting now, I’ll avoid him just like old times. It’s better for me that way, even if that means hanging out in the coffee shop that’s close to campus until bedtime.
There’s only eleven more days left of spring break, but I’m one heartache away from packing my bags and staying with my mom and her boyfriend. Then he can have all the wild sex he wants, and I won’t be around to witness it. I learned long ago that it’s better to face your problems than to run from them. But just because I’m facing Travis doesn’t mean I have to talk to him.
No more games.
No more being nice.
He’s officially cut off.
The old familiar feelings–jealousy and hatred–linger, and the realization that we could never be just friends sets in. I was stupid to even consider it could be a possibility. I hoped things would be different, but that’ll never happen, and I hate him even more for giving me hope and then snatching it away.
Chapter 16
Travis
I’m not sure which is more distracting.
The choking sound Alyssa Crawford makes when she’s deep throating my cock or envisioning Viola Fisher on her knees in front of me.
If I had to guess, I’d say it’s the latter.
After lunch, I silence my phone and hustle until four p.m. when Alyssa prances her little ass into my office.
“What do you want?” I ask.
She sways her hips and takes a seat on the edge of my cluttered desk. “I came to see if you wanted to have dinner tonight. We could write it off as a work expense.” She grins, twirling a black credit card in her fingers.
“I’m under the gun. Blake has doubled my workload,” I say without looking back up at her.
“Oh, come on, baby. You can take a little break.” Her baby voice makes my ears bleed. “You can’t be all work and no play.”
“I can’t, Alyssa,” I say, firmly. “Not all of us work CEO’s daughter’s hours. I’ll be here all night.”
She sticks her lower lip out, not pleased with my harsh response. “Well…” She swings her body off the top and rounds my desk, grabbing the arm of my chair and swinging it toward her. “Let me help make the longer hours a little more bearable then.”
Before I have time to argue, she’s on her knees, unzipping my slacks and palming my cock. I’m at a loss for words the moment she runs her tongue up my shaft.
“Alyssa…” I say, trying to control myself, but it’s a lost cause. The girl may be a complete airhead in the office, but her true talents don’t go unnoticed.
I swing my chair back toward my desk, needing to make sure she’s out of sight in case anyone barges into my office again.
“I love hearing you say my name…” she purrs, looking up at me. The look in her eyes tells me everything I already know. She thinks she has me wrapped around her little finger, and the more I give in, the more control I hand her. However, it’s too late to do anything about it now. Piss her off and I may as well piss away my career. “Sounds so much better on your lips than that bitch Viola’s.”
She wraps her lips around my cock and takes it all in her mouth, making me lose the words I was about to throw back at her. Mentioning Viola at a time like this only makes it worse. Now, I’m picturing her tits bouncing in front of me and the wetness of her lips.
“Shit,” I curse, unable to hold back.
She moans as she swallows and licks the corner of her mouth. “Mmm…” She crawls between my legs and adjusts her arms over my lap. “Now hopefully you won’t be so tense.” She puckers her lips out, begging for me to give her a kiss of approval.
“Alyssa,” I growl, tucking myself back into my slacks and zipping up. “I need to get back to work.”
She finally takes the hint and escorts herself out of my office, and I immediately drown myself back into my files. I work through dinner. Even though I’m starving and tempted to ask Viola to bring me something, I can’t take another distraction.
Just after eight p.m., I check my phone and see Viola’s sent me a message. I half expect her to ask if I’m coming home tonight or some smartass comment about being out with another chick, but I’m completely at a loss the moment I read her message, You disgust me, Travis.
It’s attached with a picture of a dozen or so photos sprawled out. It’s hard to make out exactly what they are, but I recognize Alyssa’s long blond hair, and then when I take a closer look, I see that she’s naked in them. What the hell did she do now?
I don’t have time to explain or to even hunt Alyssa down and ask her what the hell she was thinking, so I do the only thing I’m good at.
Travis: Stop being such a prude, princess. I remember a certain someone also posing naked in front of me.
I send before packing my shit up and heading out of my office. Today can kiss my ass. Blake is trying to wear me down, but I can’t let him.
When I get back to the house, all the lights are off, which can only mean Viola’s in bed already. No way she’d be out actually having a life or anything.
It’s completely silent and pitch black when I walk in. Not even a reflection of the TV is glowing, so I flip the hall light on and walk to the kitchen to flip a few more lights on.
“Viola?” I call out, but she doesn’t answer. I walk down the hall and see Drew’s room completely empty. I check my room, the living room, and bathroom. When I walk back to the kitchen, I notice the same photos from her message on the table.
“Fucking hell,” I mutter, grabbing the pictures and analyzing them for myself. “What the hell is wrong with this chick?” I shake my head at the ones she printed out from the cameras. This is a whole new level of crazy I hadn’t anticipated.
I collect them all in my hand and go to toss them out when I see her handwriting on the back. Flipping them over, I read over them all and curse when I read Viola’s name.
“Goddammit!” I firmly brush a hand through my hair, my jaw clenching at the thought of Viola seeing and reading these. Where the hell is she?
Reachi
ng for my phone, I see there’s still no reply from her and decide to send her another text.
Travis: I’m home. We need to talk.
If I had known, I would’ve never sent that reply to her. Now I feel like more of an asshole than usual.
After fifteen minutes and not hearing back from her, I decide to call her. It rings once before going straight to voicemail. Hey, you’ve reached Viola. Leave me a message and I’ll call you back!
“Viola, c’mon, I know you’re there. Get your ass back home. We need to talk.”
I hang up and immediately text her again.
Travis: I saw the pictures. I’m sorry. Come back home.
I dig through the fridge and grab the box of cold pizza. I’m too worked up to really taste it, but I haven’t eaten in hours, so I take the last few pieces. I can’t even settle down enough to watch the ten o’clock news, so I just stand in the kitchen with a can of beer and an empty pizza box.
I check my phone again, still nothing. I call her again. Voicemail. I send another text, nearly begging her to at least let me know she’s okay. Pissed at me or not, she’s always been smart about letting Drew know she was safe.
Travis: Quit the shit, Viola. I had a long day and have an even longer one tomorrow. Get your ass home. We need to talk.
I grab another beer from the fridge and debate calling Drew to see if he’s heard from her. After another hour of silence, I break down and call him.
“Hey, man. What’s up?” He sounds genuinely happy, and I hate that I have to bother him. I hope he and Mia have reconciled their differences since the last time we talked.