Fast Friends: Reunion

by Turner, Stacy

  “Oh yeah,” Tara said, deadpan. “What every girl wants to hear.”

  Mark chuckled, nipped her ear then spit. “Yuck. Shampoo?”

  “Conditioner,” she said, moving into the stream of warm water. She tried to ignore him as she washed the conditioner out of her hair, but he was very efficiently going about his business, finding her most sensitive spots and applying just the right amount of pressure. As she reached for facial wash, she felt the blunt head of his cock press against her opening.

  “Condom,” she croaked, pulling away slightly. How he was able to get her worked up so quickly she would never know.

  “Affirmative,” he said, a trace of humor in his voice.

  Tara relaxed and let him ease into her, grateful for the rubber bath mat that kept them from losing their footing. He bent her slightly forward and she gripped the shower knobs to keep herself from falling. Sex in the shower sounded like a good idea, but it was definitely more complex in the execution than one would think. Somehow they managed to stay upright while simultaneously fucking the shit out of each other. At one point Mark had one of her legs in the air while he hammered into her like a mad man. That was one for the record books, but they finished up with plain old doggy-style in the bottom of the tub. After Tara came, Mark got a little creative and jerked himself off on her stomach. Tara thought it was really hot watching his face as he brought himself off. At the last minute he locked eyes with her, holding her in an intense stare as he splattered her body with the proof of his passion.

  Tara finished up in the shower first and got ready while he took a shower. They were a running a bit late at the this point, so she grabbed them each a banana and waited by the door for Mark to finish up.

  “Hot sex and healthy food,” Mark joked, grabbing his banana and stepping out the door. “You're spoiling me, woman.”

  “Move ass,” was all she said, locking the door behind them. It was Monday. Sex in the shower had been a nice coda, but the weekend was over. It was time to come back to Earth.

  Tara kept busy over the next couple of days, spending more time at the gym and at her parents house than she would have normally, and of course burying herself in work. Her mother never came out and asked what was going on, but there was clearly a question behind her bland expression. Tara told her Mark was moving to town and that she didn't know quite what that meant for their relationship. The one time her mother tried to find out if she had clarified things with Mark, Tara evaded the question. Sarah was wise enough to let it drop after that.

  Thursday morning when Tara go to work she found an intraoffice envelope slipped under her door. She scanned the contents and realized they were the emails that Jack had told her about. It was a little weird that he hadn't placed them directly into her hands or put them on her desk She didn't lock the door to her office. What if someone else had gotten to them first? And it was almost the end of the week. Hadn't he said he would have them to her on Monday?

  Closing her door, Tara read through the emails. There were two. One was an exchange between Laurence and someone at New Image named Kelly Muir. Digging through her memory, Tara recalled that Kelly was in Human Resources at the other company. She had met her a couple of times at industry gatherings. Kelly was personable, but very aloof, from Tara's recollection. The email itself was nothing special. Kelly asked Laurence if he knew someone who had applied for a position at New Image. Laurence confirmed that he had worked with the guy at a previous company, like the man had mentioned in his interview, and gave his general impression of him. That was it. It was unusual for someone at one company to vet a candidate with a person at another, but not unheard of if the two had a personal or prior business connection. That piece Tara wasn't sure about, but it shouldn't be too difficult to find out. A quick search on Linked-In or a couple of casual queries would establish what the relationship was between the two of them. Nothing in the email was proprietary and since the two men hadn't worked together at Tara's company Laurence wasn't even discussing anything of relevance to his current role.

  The other email, though, was something else. It was from Laurence to Dean Franck, New Image's Senior VP of Marketing. In it, Dean thanked Laurence for “the package” and said it would make a huge difference in helping New Image prepare for a bid. The name of the client was very familiar to Tara. She had been part of a large team working to secure that client and everyone had been deeply disappointed when they had chosen to go with another company. Was that company New Image? She suspected it was. If the email was taken on face value, Laurence had screwed the company big time.

  But why? The two emails taken together demonstrated that Laurence was cozy with New Image HR and had betrayed the trust of his colleagues and his current position. The implication was the Laurence was preparing to jump ship and wouldn't have any qualms about taking their company's secrets with him.

  Tara placed the three sheets of paper into the file drawer built into her desk. She just stuck it into the middle of a sheaf of papers at random. She would know where to find it, but anyone else would have to go through every piece of paper in her desk. She turned on her computer and opened her email, scanning through and prioritizing.

  The whole thing stank, but it wasn't Laurence she was most suspicious of, it was Jack. What was Laurence to gain by any of this? She supposed he might have money trouble and was being paid off, but that wasn't what the emails were meant to make her think. Instead, they suggested Laurence would jump ship. Except that Tara had a hard time believing that was possible. Laurence loved his job and loved the adoration of the junior staff. He got along like gangbusters with Phil and the only upward move he could make was to take Phil's job. That might frustrate him, but going to New Image wouldn't solve that problem. They weren't going to make him a VP – they already had a VP, no a Sr. VP of marketing. On top of that, why would anyone print emails like this and leave them in their recycling bin. Why would they even send them on a company computer from a company email address. She could believe the email to Kelly Muir was authentic, though Laurence probably hadn't printed it, but the other email was suspicious. Even the way it read was weird. The style was a little off, though the person who wrote it obviously wanted to sound like Laurence, and there were similar punctuation mistakes on both sides of the exchange.

  She didn't think this was about Laurence at all. It would take a lot more than a couple of flimsy emails to threaten him, but if Tara had fallen for the ruse and taken the “evidence” to Phil it would have been her head on the chopping block. She was fairly certain that if this came to a head, Jack would deny having anything to do with the emails, which would make it seem as if Tara had fabricated them herself. The real question was why Jack wanted to set her up. What she needed was a way to get Jack to tip his hand.

  Tara reviewed what she knew about Jack. He had been at the company about two years longer than she had and despite being generally competent his advance up the corporate ladder had been slow. He had a reputation for taking risks without fully considering all the possible consequences and at least once that she had known of, it had blown up disastrously in his face. He wasn't enough of a wild card to get fired, but she had a good idea why management hadn't given him more responsibility. By contrast, Tara had been floating up the ranks quickly. That might make it seem as if she was getting some special favor, but the truth was Tara worked hard without making it obvious. She got results because she did her research, built relationships and took calculated risks that paid off. She had delivered for the company time and again and she was trusted. It was plausible that Jack, like many others, resented her success and had an eye on her job, but if so, he'd done a good job of hiding it up till now. It occurred to her that his friendliness hadn't been for her benefit only. He'd created the impression that he was her friend. No one would suspect him of trying to sabotage her.

  Tara considered next moves. She could ignore the whole thing and stymy Jack's efforts, but that was no guarantee that he wouldn't try something else. He was obv
iously capable of forgery and at least she knew what he was planning this time. Next time she might not be so lucky.

  Deciding to give the matter careful thought, Tara set it aside for the moment. She couldn't wait too long, but right now she needed to focus on her work and continue to look good. In a week or so she was confident she would have a plan of action.

  Turning back to her computer, Tara began replying to email. Jack had better watch his back because she was coming for him and he'd soon be very sorry he tried to mess with her.

  “So you went home with Mark,” Christie said that night when Tara called her to apologize for not saying goodbye when she left the reunion. She should have expected the question, but Tara didn't have a ready answer and Christie didn't seem to need her reply to figure things out.

  “Come on, Tara,” Christie said, “the way the two of you were dancing together I don't think anyone at the reunion was surprised when you didn't come back.”

  “I was kind of surprised,” Tara admitted, chewing on her lip. She was sitting in her living room alone. She'd poured herself a glass of wine after dinner, but barely touched it. What she wanted was Mark, but that wasn't possible. “I definitely didn't think that was going to happen.”

  “Why not?” Christie asked. “Aren't hookups part of the whole reunion thing? I would have taken him home if I got the chance.” Tara rolled her eyes. She wished Christie wouldn't say things like that. Of course, if Christie had been single she probably would have made a play for Mark. Christie wasn't the shy type.

  “He's moving back here,” Tara told her.

  “Really? That's interesting. Did he already know before you hooked up?”

  “I guess,” Tara said. She really wasn't sure. After she dropped him off on Monday they had barely talked other than a few text messages. That night he had flown back east. She wasn't even clear on whether he had quit his job already or how long it would be before he was back in town.

  “This is starting to sound less and less like a casual hook-up,” Christie said. “Oof! Sorry, my little power forward is giving me a hell of a time. I can't wait for this pregnancy to be over.”

  “So it's a boy?” Tara asked.

  “No idea,” Christie said. “I told you how we decided not to find out and every time I change my mind Craig reminds me how adamant I was a few months ago.”

  “Do you have a preference one way or the other?”

  “Not really,” Christie said. “It's our first, so it doesn't really matter does it? Maybe if I had one I'd want the next baby to be the opposite, but healthy is really all that matters. Based on the kicks and jabs I've been getting lately I'm pretty sure I'm getting strong, at least.”

  Tara chuckled. Christie was so lucky. Craig adored her and their first pregnancy was going off without a hitch. Tara had thought about what it might be like to have a baby. The last six months or so she'd been imagining that child with Mark's gray eyes. She wondered what it would be like to have Mark look at her the way Craig looked at Christie, to feel his child moving inside her.

  She shied away from that thought. The last thing she needed right now was to get pregnant. She also didn't need to be taking any flights of fancy about her future with Mark.

  “Did you see the way Alex Nguyen was dressed,” Tara asked, to change the subject.

  “Oh, yes,” Christie said. “What a disaster.”

  They talked for another few minutes about the people they had seen at the reunion and promised to try to meet for lunch before the baby came. After she got off the phone, Tara texted Mark.

  Tara: What are you up to?

  Mark: TV. You?

  Tara: Pretending to have a glass of wine.

  Mark: Pretending?

  Tara: Poured it, now not really in the mood.

  Mark: What are you wearing?

  Tara: Yoga pants and a T-shirt. You?

  Mark: Nada.

  Tara: Really?

  Mark: No. Pajama bottoms. Bed time.

  Tara: LOL. Why'd you want me to think you were naked?

  Mark: To stimulate your dirty mind.

  Tara: Frustrate it, more like.

  Mark: So it's working. Hmm...

  Tara: How's the move prep going?

  Mark: Pretty well. Didn't go as well with letting my boss know I'm leaving. She's trying to wring every last drop out of me before my last day.

  Tara: That sucks. When's that?

  Mark: My last day? Next Friday.

  So a full two weeks then. He must have given notice that Monday, which meant he probably hadn't made the decision until after they slept together. She supposed that could be interpreted in one of two ways. Either he hadn't thought about being in town long term when they slept together, or sleeping with her had helped him make the decision. No, she wouldn't think that. That would be fanciful. If his feelings for her were that significant he would have said something, surely. Anyway, for all she knew all it had meant to him was that he would be getting regular sex as soon as he moved home.

  Tara: When's the move?

  Mark: Haven't worked out all the details yet, but I was thinking the following week. Give myself a few days to finish packing and arrange everything.

  So in less than three weeks Mark would be living in town. Probably at his parents at first. He wouldn't have had time to find an apartment. What would it be like having him around all the time? They had spent two nights together. Not enough information to go on there. She was thinking about it too much. Things would happen as they happened. She had never been the kind of girl to waste her time guessing at what a guy was going to do. What was different here was that she seemed to care a lot more than she had with any of her exes. For peace of mind she need to know where she stood and what was coming, but that was impossible.

  Mark: It's late. I'm turning in. Take care, sweet cheeks.

  Sweet cheeks?

  Tara: Goodnight, Mark.

  Mark looked up from his cellphone and around the dim room, still smiling a little. He'd decided not to stress about where things might be going to with Tara. Now that they were apart things were back to normal, more or less. Her pert little replies pleased him. She was fun to flirt with.

  His friend Devon slid onto the bench seat next to him. “Who's that?” he asked, meaning the text messages.

  “Tara,” Mark said, tucking his phone into his pocket.

  “She must be some amazing piece of ass,” Devon said.

  “Don't be crude,” Mark said, taking a sip from his whisky glass and leaning back against the leather seat.

  “I'm just saying,” Devon said. “Look at Espresso over there all by herself. Most nights you'd be all over that.”

  He would have. Espresso, whose real name was Deidre, was a short, slim black girl with with curvy hips and an amazing plump dewdrop ass. She belonged to Paul, another dom, who liked to let Mark play with her. That was fine with both Mark and Deidre. She loved having her ass abused almost as much as Mark loved spanking and whipping it. He often follow it up with an anal dildoing in front of anyone who cared to watch. She came loudly most times, begging him to fuck her. It was against club rules to have sex with the other members on the premises, though some people found ways to skirt the lines. He'd never had sex with Deidre, though one night when they'd had too much to drink she'd almost blown him in the parking lot before confessing her dom was actually her husband and even though he'd said it was okay she really couldn't bring herself to have sex with another man. That had reinforced Mark's existing thoughts on the club. It was a world unto itself and best kept that way. Play was contained within its walls, locked away safe from the rest of his life.

  Deidre did look especially sexy tonight, though for once it wasn't doing anything for him. She was wearing a sheer white lace bikini set that left very little to the imagination. The bottoms weren't a thong, but they might as well have been. The did a truly pathetic job of covering her ass. She crawled forward on all fours rubbing her face against the front of her husbands pants. Her ass was po
inted straight at Mark. On any other night he would have gone over, just to check if Paul was in the mood to share, but right now all he could think of was what Tara would look like in the same position. He didn't know about sharing her, but he wouldn't mind showing her off the way Paul was doing with Deidre.

  “I'm trying not to look at your junk, dude,” Devon said, “but you look like you're ready to head over there.”

  “I'm good,” Mark said, crossing his legs at the knee. Devon could be a little creepy sometimes. He wasn't going to tell him that it was thinking of Tara that had got him excited. “Why don't you go over there.”

  “You know she's not my type,” Devon said. Devon liked busty blondes. “What's the deal, Mark? Why are you even here?”

  “Just hanging, Devon,” Mark said, a little annoyed.

  “I can't believe you of all guys are hung up on some girl,” Devon said. “I warned you before you went home.”

  “I'm not hung up on her, okay,” Mark said. “I just don't feel like it tonight.”

  Devon shook his head. Devon was in his late thirties and to Mark's knowledge had never had a girlfriend. He liked to play, and sometimes brought a sub to the club, but it was never anything serious. Mark had liked that scenario for himself. It seemed a lot less hassle than getting emotionally entangled. The women were interchangeable toys. He especially liked playing with other men's women because there was no emotional risk. Now he felt a little pang. He recalled all the times he'd been with Deidre. Never once had she looked at him the way she now looked at Paul. Everything she'd done with him had been for her husband's pleasure, ultimately, not Mark's. What had changed to make him want to be the one adored, the one attached to? Tara, of course. She'd hooked him somehow, with those deep blue eyes. He didn't want just any woman under his hands – he wanted her.

  “Did I ever tell you about Mary,” Devon said, still watching Paul and Deidre.

  “Mary who?” Mark asked, bored by the near naked women walking by.