The Sunday Arrangement

by Lucy Smith

  “You surprised me, actually,” he whispered softly.

  I pressed the white sheet against my chest. “I did?”

  “I wasn’t sure you’d be into role-playing.”

  “To be honest,” I said, “I wasn’t entirely sure I would either.”

  Pierce folded his hands across his chest. “And now? What would you say having done it?”

  I paused before answering. “I think it was incredibly and surprisingly arousing.” I decided to leave out the part that he was the reason for my total enjoyment of the evening—not playing a role.

  He smiled at me as though I had answered correctly.

  “Did you . . . did you enjoy your fantasy?” I asked, hesitation on my tongue.

  “More than you know, Lauren. You were every bit as sexy as I have always imagined Natasha would be, and more.”

  I could feel my cheeks blush at his sincerity. I was grateful his gentleness continued outside screwing in the silk sheets—such a breath of fresh air from his typical work demeanor.

  “It’s your turn next,” he said. “What do you want to do to me this coming Sunday?”

  I laughed. “Oh no, no, no. I had to wait all week to discover what you wanted. Now you have to wait for me.” I wondered if the days would pass as slowly and tortuously for him as they had for me.

  He got up from the bed and started searching for his clothes, haphazardly sprawled over the room. “I guess I deserve that. A surprise it will be then.”

  “Do you have to go?” I asked before I could stop myself.

  He looked at me as he was putting on his khaki pants. “I’m sorry, Lauren. I never stay the night.” He shrugged. “I actually have somewhere else to be now anyway.”

  Once he had all his clothes on, he bid me good night and left. I willed myself not to believe he was going to see April though I didn’t doubt Pierce had the sexual stamina to be with two women in the same evening. It was becoming more and more difficult to keep up with him, to match his efforts at ecstasy. I did enjoy the challenge, however. He was like an experienced lion tamer, challenging me in the ring to dance with the lovely beasts with the flick of his leather whip.

  Still naked on top of my mattress, I began to toy with my ideas for next Sunday. I had a feeling I would immensely enjoy any kind of sexual experience with Pierce, but I wanted it to be special and well thought out. Should I stick to something expected and overdone? Should I try something fresh? My sexual experience was so limited, anything I chose would be new and magical to me—especially if it was with the mysterious Maverick man. I had a week to think it over and decide.

  The rest of the evening, I decided, would be spent with a glass of wine and Sex and the City reruns while I reviewed our latest proposals for the casino. Everything had to be perfect if we were going to move forward with Toby’s design once he finished. Delays were a project’s worst nightmare.

  As I got up from my bed, the phone rang. My stomach twisted in anticipation. Had Pierce changed his mind? Would he want to stay the night after all? Grabbing my iPhone from my nightstand, my stomach flip-flopped for an entirely different reason. It wasn’t Mr. Maverick on the end of the line.

  It was my dad.

  Chapter Ten

  I awoke on Monday morning, my glorious day off, incredibly sore and with two very different men on my mind. My body felt like I had been run over by a semi truck; it was a wonderful kind of ache because it made me recall the night before. Pierce’s animal-like aggression had worn me out both physically and mentally. And then there was the eerie phone call from Dad just minutes after Pierce left my penthouse. Any other daughter, especially one who worked for her father’s company, probably wouldn’t cringe at the sight of her dad’s contact information lighting up her screen on a Sunday evening. Unlike those girls, I wasn’t used to phone calls from my father, especially when he knew I was working on one of his beloved projects. He didn’t like, as he put it, “to waste time shooting the shit when I have actual shit to do.”

  My mind had raced with a million questions last night: Did he somehow know about my Sunday arrangement with Pierce? Was there something wrong with the casino’s projections? Did he not think I could handle this project on my own? Were Mom and Toby okay? Surely this was something big, really big, if his standard two-line e-mail wouldn’t suffice.

  In typical Lauren fashion, I screened his call. I wanted to see if he’d leave a message, if this really was as urgent as I was making it out to be in my head. When he didn’t send me a voice mail or an urgent text message to answer the phone, I decided to make him wait until tomorrow. My father could curl my skin faster than the humidity in Florida, and I wasn’t ready to come down from my amazing high so quickly. Whatever it was, it could be put off a few more hours.

  I stretched my arms high in the air, willing myself to wake up and seize the day. Remembering what Pierce had done to me in this comfortable bed last night made me never want to leave it. Instead, I wanted to call him up and ask him if we could change our Sunday arrangement to an everyday arrangement. After all, we did have the day off. Why couldn’t we treat ourselves to another sexual rendezvous? Shaking my head against the pillow, I answered my own question. The last thing I needed was for Pierce to think I was some needy woman completely lost without him. Clingy lovers were never attractive, and I’m sure they didn’t last long, especially with someone like Pierce. I was no leech, but God—the thought of waiting an entire week to feel his arms around me, to return his passionate kisses, and to enter our fantastical, sexual world seemed nearly impossible.

  Suppressing my desire to call him, I reached for my brown leather briefcase to grab my laptop. The previous night, while watching the Sex and the City reruns, a sexual epiphany had struck me while watching the infamous Carrie Bradshaw. Something between Carrie’s infatuation with Mr. Big and a runway project she was working on made me put my fantasy together. I knew exactly what I wanted to do with my Maverick maniac next week. There were just a few things I needed to take care of today in order to ensure my night of erotica would be possibility.

  Opening the web browser, I began my online search for a video camera. I needed to find one that was absolutely perfect for this Sunday’s arrangement because I had decided to record it. One of my earliest fantasies, for as long as I could remember, was to have sex while being filmed. There was a sense of danger in it, a very real peril when a person whose family was always in the public eye chose to participate in such sexual exploits. The video was so tangible, so real. As long as it existed, it posed a threat. There was always a chance the film could get leaked at any given moment, quickly transforming from a thing of enjoyment to one of immeasurable scrutiny. That thin line was what aroused me. The danger behind the red record button and the potency of being in front of the lens, naked and vulnerable, was sexy as hell.

  This fantasy would go against everything I had represented since my affair with my college professor so long ago. No more would I be the innocent worker bee, too busy or too nervous that the paparazzi would want a story about the billionaire’s daughter to have a real sex life. With this video, I really would be taking my sexuality by the balls and crying “Fuck you!” to all the journalists—and even my father—who had pigeon-holed me into the person I was today. This put everything on the line. I doubted that either Pierce or I would ever allow our sexual adventure on the mattress to be found by the sleazy journalists, but it was thrilling to imagine. It made me feel like a naughty little girl, living a secret life that no one would ever discover . . . if I was careful. And that was incredibly arousing.

  This was all so new to me, getting a chance to live out a fantasy I’d always wanted to do. Before Pierce, my nights spent with other men were a black-and-white kind of boring. Oral sex felt gross and sloppy, like a dog lapping water. Fingering always felt too forced. And any crazy sexual positions were like a bad practical joke that wouldn’t end. Even in college, before I met Professor Tillton, the guys were unwilling to break the sexual box. The kinkies
t they ever got was letting me be on top every once in a while. Perhaps they were insecure in their own abilities. Maybe they were timid around me. All I wanted was someone to make me feel desired, and at the time, I thought that’s what they were giving me. They might have been too nervous to try something crazy because most of my sexual conquests were one-night stands, but I wished they had. Maybe then I would have had more experience to offer Pierce. Maybe then I would feel more comfortable in my own body and not second-guess every moment.

  I bit my lip as I scrolled through endless pages of high-grade cameras. The video camera needed to be the absolute best quality. Cost wasn’t a question. I didn’t want some rinky-dink version if I was going to step out on a limb and do this. Besides, I planned on watching our little home movie many, many times. I hoped Pierce felt the same way.

  After an hour or so of comparing quality and resolution and searching for additional gadgetry, I found the perfect camera. It had an extra-long battery life, high pixilation, and the best part was it came with a tripod. That way we could see everything, every minute detail of his entire body on top of mine as we had mind-blowing sex, thrust after glorious thrust. I bought it with the specifications that it needed to be gift wrapped with a card that read:

  Mr. Maverick,

  I’m greatly looking forward to our evening together.

  Let’s “Play.”

  I grinned at my clever pun. I also specified that the package needed to arrive promptly on Sunday morning, not a day before or after. It cost extra for the personalized delivery from the company, but that wasn’t a problem. I would have paid hundreds more. A giddy feeling shot through me. Waiting for next week was going to be even harder now.

  I moved my computer from my lap and stretched my arms once again. Ruffling my curly hair, I took out the bobby pins I’d forgotten to remove last night and glanced at my bedside clock. It was almost noon, and I still hadn’t gotten out of bed. Thankful for a day off, I felt incredibly lazy. Pierce micromanaged this project so much that the little work I had to do could wait. And just as I’d already spent the morning, I felt like straying from my usual behavior. My mind began to wander to the almost consistent thought I’d had the last few days though I would admit that to no one. Pierce was unlike anything I had ever experienced. I finally felt as though I had dipped my feet in the ocean everyone raved about. It was cold and brisk, but it was also electrifying and addictive.

  I could feel myself grow aroused at the memories of being with him. They played in a repetitive loop in my mind. I knew every movement, every detail. Each of them was captivating and erotic in their own way. Suddenly, I began to feel warm. The mere memories of Pierce aroused me more than the presence of any other man ever had. I pulled off my pink tank top and licked two fingers. My tongue was hot and wet. I pinched my nipple and then rubbed it, mimicking the motion Pierce had so effectively done the night before. A small shock of pleasure ran through me as my fingers continued to massage my breast. My right hand travelled down my stomach, as if it had a mind of its own. I pushed my hand underneath the waistband of my black shorts and then underneath my panties. My curious fingers met my pussy in a wave of adrenaline. This was so unlike me, but I didn’t want to stop. It was too hot, too good to quit now.

  Images of Pierce and his beautiful, naked body swarmed in my mind, mixing and matching to form a new exotic fantasy: We were in a scenic town in Greece. We were on the private beach of a small island we’d rented where we could be away from prying eyes. We relaxed on towels, soaking in the rays of sunshine in the nude. It was the first time I had been naked in an area that could be public, besides my own backyard. Pierce had talked to me into it.

  My fingers traveled to just above my clit and rubbed it slowly, teasingly.

  I was lying on my stomach, my ass in the open air. He was on his stomach next to me. At first we discussed trivial things: the gyro we had eaten at lunch, the thick accents of the men who sold us their row boat, the incredibly tan skin of the people of Greece. But then he grew quiet. He looked at me with heat in his eyes, and I felt beautiful. I asked him if he could rub tanning oil on me. Massaging the warm oil into my shoulders, his sensual touch aroused me. He took his time, using his thumbs and the heels of his hands to knead deeply into my muscles. His touch was the perfect amount of pressure—not too hard, not too soft—as he gradually moved down to my lower back. His hands moved over my butt, and his fingers lightly hovered over my pussy. I moaned, begging him to rub me there.

  My fingers travelled past my clit to my opening, which was ready for attention.

  His hands grasped my right thigh, and he used all his fingers to relax the tight muscles. My skin tingled from his ministrations. He did the left thigh next, before moving down to my calves and feet. My entire backside felt relaxed as he had me turn onto my back.

  I pushed my fingers into the opening and arched my back slightly. The end of my palm brushed against my clit.

  He did not go straight for my breasts, like I was anticipating. Instead he started by lightly massaging oil into my neck and the tops of my shoulders. He moved down my arms and massaged my hands. Having finished my shoulders and arms, he poured a bit of oil on the center of my collar bone and allowed it to run down the center of my breasts to my stomach where it ran off the side and tickled. A finger came down and ran through the trail of liquid, spreading it in a thin line across my stomach. He did that again, but this time followed the underside of my breasts. Closer and closer he got to my hard nipple. I held my breath while I watched him, anticipating his touch. Finally, his hand came up to massage the oil into my breast. His fingers toyed with my sensitive nipples, which responded to his gentle squeezes.

  The pleasure within me grew more intense. I pumped my fingers in and out, wishing all the while that I could reach the spot within me that would make me overflow with pleasure.

  When he pulled away, I moaned at the loss of him. He reached behind him and got an extra towel from the bag and wiped the excess oil off his hands. He positioned his hand over my pussy. He cupped it, and pushed his fingers inside me. His fingers curled in my vagina, and he pushed upward. He knew just how to find that spot in me that would make it all come to a head.

  The pleasure built quickly as I maneuvered in and out of my responsive pussy. I tossed in my bed as a small orgasm took hold of me. “Oh, Pierce,” I softly mumbled. Even when he wasn’t present, he still turned me on.

  ~*~*~*~

  Later that day, I decided that I couldn’t put my dad off any longer. Unfortunately, I needed to see what, if anything, he wanted. The phone rang only twice before he picked up.

  “Hi, Lauren. Glad you finally got around to returning my phone call.”

  “Sorry, it’s been a busy day,” I lied. “Besides you didn’t leave a voice mail, so I didn’t think this would be urgent.”

  “You know I can’t stand that damn recorder device contraption.”

  I resisted the urge to cringe, thinking of my recent purchase for Sunday’s adventure. I wondered what my father would think of my new video camera. “Okay then, Dad. What’s up?”

  “I wanted to get a sense of how you and Pierce are getting along on this project.”

  “As in how are we working together or how far along are we in the project?” I asked hesitantly.

  “Both.”

  I took a deep breath. Was he asking more than he let on?

  “What’s the name of the casino again?” he asked before I could respond.

  “Fantasy. Pierce chose it last week. I sent you an e-mail about it.”

  “I saw. I saw,” he said defensively. “It must’ve slipped my mind. Seems like an odd name for a fancy building where people are going just to gamble.”

  “Fantasy is more than gambling, Dad. Haven’t you read any of my updates? It really does go well with the theme we want for this project,” I said, restraining myself from adding, and for Sunday evenings. “Besides, the investors loved it.”

  “So what do you mean by ‘Pierce
chose it’?” he asked. “Are you letting him boss you around?”

  “I thought the name was clever and unique, so I agreed to it. Frankly, anything I’ve disagreed with him on isn’t worth the retribution he gives. I’m letting him mostly take the reins on this one, since he cares way more about its success than I do.”

  My father huffed on the other end of the line. “Lauren, I told you this is our project! The Mavericks are just a publicity stunt. You cannot allow Pierce to take control of this casino and ruin it.”

  “What? You told me to listen to him and be obliging.”

  “I told you to listen to him but watch him like a hawk. We can’t afford to allow Peter and his snotty son to pull a fast one on us.” His tone was worrisome and gruff.

  “Tell me something, Dad. Why would you agree to do business, especially a project that we suspect will take two or three years, with a man you can’t trust?”

  “I told you! How many times do I need to explain myself?” he shouted. “Our families need the good publicity.”

  I rolled my eyes, thankful he couldn’t see my reaction. “No one’s buying that, especially not Toby and me.”

  “Just trust me, okay? We need this much more than you kids realize.”

  My father was almost always as rude as hell, but he never sounded worried. I could hear the strain in his voice. Part of me wanted to yell at him; the other part wanted to wring his thick neck. Working with your enemies was generally never a good idea, no matter how much the newspapers loved it.

  “You’ve just never been so worried about publicity before . . . at least not enough to be proactive in preventing it,” I prompted.

  “Lauren,” he said after a few moments, “I need you to start watching Pierce. Peter has been extremely evasive over the recent developments with the casino, and now you’re telling me that Pierce is calling all the shots up there. I’m worried they’re somehow going to pull a fast one on us.”