“Go get your computer,” he repeated as if I hadn’t spoken at all. I looked at him and tried to remain calm, even though I felt a flush rising from my chest through my cheeks. I stood up and walked slowly to the dining table where my laptop sat closed. I opened it and clicked on his email, reading through it to refresh my blank mind. I winced, seeing his specific reference of documents he wanted to show me that, according to him, would seal Oliver’s coffin as far as animal cruelty went. I thought about clicking the delete button as I walked, accidentally of course, but that was laughable; Oliver would have it undeleted before my finger even left the button.
“Here,” I said, handing him my laptop. I sat back down next to him and watched his eyes move across the message. When he finished, his lips were smoothed out into a tight line. He closed my laptop and set it on the table, and then he sat back in his chair with his glass of wine. He spoke, not looking at me, but, rather, looking out over the Tuscan scenery.
“I’ve worked very hard my entire life to build Neuotova, even before I knew the shape it would take. I pride myself in the research, the food, the science, all of it that Neuotova has contributed to making our world better. There are some people, unfortunately, who are motivated by money and power rather than by the greater good. Ethan is one of those people. Go ahead and meet with him if you choose to. Listen to everything he has to say, but know that every word that comes out of his mouth is a lie. He serves only himself; he doesn’t serve the greater good. I do. Neuotova does.”
He spoke as if he was in a trance, or as though he was reciting a speech he had prepared for a play. He finished and he looked at me. I was silent, not knowing what to say. He set his glass of wine on my computer and smiled.
“Well, now that that unpleasantness is over, do you want to get dressed and we can go to the market?
My stomach was doing flips inside as I watched his transformation from his anger back into normal Oliver, who was, once again, drumming his fingertips on my knee as if we hadn’t just had an argument. Which, come to think of it, I’m not even sure we’d had. I shook my head, trying to clear out my brain.
“I’d love to,” I said. He stood up and drew me to him. As always, I felt my body respond to his proximity, the heat of his chest and core creating soft goosebumps on my skin. My nipples awakened and I arched my back slightly against him, pressing my breasts to his chest. He sighed appreciatively and pulled me in tighter. He kept one hand on my low back and slid his other hand between the folds of my robe and began to massage my breast. The heat of his hand combined with the pressure of his hand on my spine stirring my arousal instantly. I felt his hardness just a small slip of fabric away beneath his pajama bottoms, and I smiled, reaching my hand down to rub his shaft as he leaned in to kiss me.
“We need to go right now or I’ll ravage you and then we won’t have anything to eat for dinner,” he whispered, his breath hot on my ear.
“That’s a chance I’m willing to take,” I said, kissing him again. His mouth fit to mine exactly perfectly; it was quite amazing, really, and it was something I noticed every time we kissed. “You can’t go out like this anyway,” I said, sliding my hand against his erection.
He picked me up and carried me into the bedroom, my legs wrapped around him and my robe open to expose my complete state of arousal to him. When he laid me on the bed and stood back, he glanced down at his pajama bottoms and the dark, damp spot forming at the top.
“Is that from you or me?” he teased, pulling his pants off.
“It better not be from you,” I said, “or you’ve got some explaining to do.” I pulled him on top of me and sighed in ecstasy at the sensation of his weight on me. He slid his cock into me and I gasped; I was fully ready, and the feeling of him filling me was like a shot of adrenaline. I wrapped my legs around him once again and crossed my ankles, pulling him to me. We were pressed together as close as two humans can be, and the friction of his pubic bone on my clit drove me wild with pleasure. I buried my face in his neck and gently bit down, my nails digging lightly into his back, enough to cause him sensation but not enough to leave a mark, and he cried out, then began to thrust into me harder and harder.
My orgasm released me from any worry or anxiety I’d had throughout the entire morning like a balloon being released into the air. Sweet freedom, I moaned as I came and kept my body pressed to his. When he climaxed, his fluids filled me with heat and I felt the pleasant, welcome sensation of his energy surging into my body. He groaned as he spent himself, and, when he was finished, he pushed himself off of me quickly and rolled onto his back.
“Fuck, you’re amazing,” he said breathlessly. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. I’ll say it in English, Italian, and in any time zone you want.” He leaned up on his elbow and looked at me, smiling, the events of the earlier morning with Ethan’s email forgotten. “I want to fuck you every day for the rest of my life.”
“Well,” I said playfully, “we’ve got today covered. That’s a great start to the day.” I kissed him. “I’m going to jump into the shower and then we can go shopping.”
“I’m buying you a dress,” he said. “You need some beautiful Italian clothes… something as beautiful as you are.”
“Okay, Romeo,” I said, knowing from previous experience that arguing with him about buying me something was absolutely futile. I wondered if I would ever get used to having a boyfriend who spent money on me without me asking, and on things I didn’t need. Then I wondered if I would even need to get used to it. Oliver wasn’t my husband; he was my boyfriend. And that was an assumption I was making. I wondered if I would introduce him to my friends, to anyone besides Lisa, as my boyfriend. I shook my head. No, we were not in a relationship. He could break up with me at any time, and for any reason. I thought of Ethan’s email, his desire to meet with me, and Oliver’s reaction. Go ahead and meet with him if you choose to. Listen to everything he has to say, but know that every word that comes out of his mouth is a lie. Was that advice? … Or a challenge.
Oliver
As soon as I sent Becka into the women’s clothing store, I darted across the street and into the Internet café I’d been watching for. Of course, I had all the internet I wanted free at our private home, but this was far more convenient and, not that she would snoop, but I could be assured that my message to Ethan would be hidden from Becka’s eyes.
Even the thought of his name sent my blood into boiling mode. That simpering, sneaking little asshole thought he was going to infiltrate Neuotova through Becka. As if that would be possible. I wouldn’t have worried one bit, except… Except for Becka’s moral compass and her tremendous intelligence. I had no idea what trash Ethan was going to present to her at the meeting they would have; and I had no doubt that they would have it. The only thing that mattered for me was getting to Ethan first. The history he and I had was long and fraught with anger and distrust; I didn’t want him involving himself with Becka on even the most benign of levels.
I thought back to when Ethan and I had been graduate students. We had bonded so well as young adults and ended up being excellent business partners as well. Ethan and I had started Neuotova together, though it had always been my name on the company.
I knew Ethan’s email address by heart, and I opened my laptop and began to compose an email to him.
Ethan,
I heard you extended a communication to my assistant, Becka. Please know that there is no need to go through my assistant if you wish to ask any questions or seek any information. I assume you still have my direct contact information. Use that in the future. Becka has been instructed to forward any communication with you directly to me.
Sincerely,
Oliver Weeks
I clicked send. I knew that he would be able to read between the lines. I was aware that my email could be hacked at any time, so I was conscious to always keep anything I put in print as neutral as possible.
I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes, a tension headache sudd
enly pushing against my temples. Becka’s face entered my mind and I smiled. I stood up and walked out onto the sidewalk. The air was crisp this morning and the sun was breaking through a light haze of clouds. I looked across the street and saw Becka lingering at a dress near the window. I sat down on a bench outside the café so she would see me when she was ready.
A few minutes later, she came out of the store and stood on the sidewalk, looking for me. I walked across the street and straight into her arms. She had an excited flush in her cheeks, and I found myself smiling in spite of my dark thoughts about Ethan.
“Did you have fun?” I asked, smiling at her. I was determined that she not know anything was wrong; I had forgotten myself this morning and let my anger get the best of me. For the sake of everyone, that couldn’t happen again.
“That store is amazing!” she said. “Everything in it is so beautiful! I found a few things, I was trying to just pick one, but I couldn’t decide.” Her expression faltered a bit. “I hope that’s okay?”
“Sweetheart, you could buy everything in the store and it would only complement your beauty. I’m glad you found some things that make you happy. I can’t wait for you to show them off for me.” I squeezed her and we walked down the street. We got to the market and decided that we would make pasta for dinner. We got the ingredients for homemade sauce, fresh pasta, and then picked up some fish to put with it. We stopped down the street for a bottle of wine, and then we walked home.
Becka linked her arm through mine and I felt the warmth of her body close to mine. My groin tightened and I was glad I was wearing a loose linen shirt that was long enough to cover my crotch. I leaned in and kissed her on her temple. Her flesh was so soft under my lips, and so delicious. I could taste her. My cock stirred again, more insistent this time, and I had the feeling we would be making a stop in the bedroom before we got to the kitchen.
“You should put on your favorite of what you bought today when we get home,” I said, my voice low.
“Why,” she laughed, “so you can tear it off of me?”
“We can buy you another one tomorrow,” I promised.
She stopped and turned toward me. She dropped her hand between my legs and pressed her glorious fingers against my cock; it sensed her like a heat-seeking force and drew toward her.
“You’re so handsome and delicious,” she said.
“Funny, I was just thinking about how good you taste when I kissed you a moment ago.”
“We must both be hungry,” she said… and I couldn’t have agreed more. Just then, my phone pinged in my pocket. I took it out and looked at the screen… it was a text from Ethan. I turned away from Becka and read it quickly. He wanted to meet to discuss our arrangement.
No problem, Ethan, I thought. And when we do meet, I’ll make you sorry you were ever born.
Becka
I stretched and sat up in bed, my eyes taking a moment to adjust to the dim light of my apartment, a reminder that I was back home and no longer under the beautiful sun lit sky of Tuscany. I looked at my clock; it was almost seven in the morning, and it was time to get out of bed. I looked to the empty space next to me and felt a longing in my stomach; I had gotten so used to seeing Oliver there next to me, waking up with him, hearing him breathe and move, hearing his sounds as he slept. I ran my hand over his side, half expecting it to be warm… but, of course, he was at his home and I was alone in mine.
I had to go in to Neuotova for a few hours, but Oliver had a business meeting in the afternoon and, since he knew that I had a deadline coming up for my dissertation, he had given me the afternoon off. I did need to work on my dissertation, but my main plan for that afternoon was to investigate Ethan Hernandez and his connection to Oliver and to Neuotova. There had to be records somewhere, and I was determined to find them.
When I got to work, I spent the first several hours getting caught up on emails that I had deferred during our trip, and organizing Oliver’s calendar for the rest of this week and next week. I couldn’t believe how fast the time was flying by. When I looked at my phone to check the time, it was already eleven o’clock. I also had a text message from a number I didn’t recognize.
Becka, it’s Ethan. Meet me tonight at eight at Reck On Ing. I’ll have a table waiting.
I swallowed, my fast paced day suddenly coming to a screeching halt. I looked to Oliver’s office, but the door was closed and I was sure he was still on a conference call. Reck On Ing was a bar on Ingalls street that was known to the college students as a place that absolutely wouldn’t serve underage drinkers and carded everyone, so it had been largely claimed by the locals as a student-free zone. It was an odd choice for a meeting place, but not, I supposed, if he didn’t want to be interrupted.
The rest of the day passed quickly as I remained preoccupied with my meeting with Ethan. He said he was getting a table; I had no intention of having dinner with him. I would meet him, hear what he had to say, then leave. Almost a dozen times I thought about telling Oliver. Even having him come with me. I was nervous to meet Ethan, even though I’d met him before. He had said he’d show me documents that would prove that Oliver was not who he said he was. Would prove that Oliver was using Neuotova as an animal experimentation area. I had been searching for the truth since I’d found out there was even a question, but, now, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.
Don’t be silly, I told myself. Yes, I had feelings for Oliver, but I couldn’t be involved with a liar. If he was some sort of a criminal mastermind, I needed to know that so that I could separate myself from him and move forward.
When I got home, I fired up my computer and did one final search on Ethan Hernandez. There were a few articles about extremist activities where he was shown in pictures as an activist, and he was quoted in a few articles, but his internet footprint was relatively small. Surprisingly small, I realized. As if perhaps someone had gone through and wiped him from the internet as much as possible. My stomach twisted a bit as I realized that there was someone else I’d been able to find precious little on the internet about… Oliver. My phone rang and I jumped.
“Jesus,” I said to myself. “Calm down. You’re not in Mission Impossible here.” I grabbed my phone; it was Lisa.
“Hey!” she said, sounding excited. “Are you at home right now?”
“Yep,” I replied. “What’s up?”
“Oh great!” Lisa sounded relieved. “Can you throw a few things in a bag for me? Sexy things. You know what I’ve got in my closet. Peter just invited me to do an overnight at his place and I want to be able to just stop at home quickly and pick up the bag on my way.”
I smiled. I did know exactly what was in Lisa’s closet, having tried most of it on at one point or another. “Sure,” I said. “No problem. I’m leaving to go to dinner in a few hours but I’ll do it before I go.”
“Ohhh with Oliver?” she asked.
I paused. “No,” I said, “just a meeting with someone from Neuotova.” Not exactly a lie, I told myself.
“Well, the place will be empty tonight if you and Oliver want to get a little down and dirty,” she said suggestively.
“Jeez, Lis,” I laughed. “There will be no down and dirty, I promise.”
“Well, that’s just unfortunate for you. I will, personally, be getting down and dirty all night long!” She laughed and I shook my head at her excitement. We had been friends for such a long time, and talking to her always made me happier.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said. “I’ll put your bag by the door. And I’ll throw some condoms in there for you, too. Safety first!”
We hung up and I went to her room to pack her bag. By the time I was finished, it was time for me to get ready to go meet Ethan and I felt my anxiety spike again.
I dressed simply. I put on jeans that were tight but not too tight, and a t shirt with a v cut. It showed my cleavage, but not so much that it was suggestive. The t shirt was cut to my shape and it was flattering, especially with the jeans. I looked in my full length mirror a
nd wondered if it was too flattering; if it was too much. I shook my head. There was nothing wrong with looking good, I told myself. I did my hair and make-up carefully, letting my hair fall around my shoulders. My make-up was light but present. When I grabbed my purse, phone, and keys, I was set to be right on time.
I drove to the restaurant breathing deeply, trying to control my anxiety. I had no idea what I was even nervous about; it wasn’t as though I was scared, and it wasn’t as though Ethan was a threat to me. I wanted to get there ahead of him so I didn’t have to actually go into the restaurant; I planned to wait outside. I imagined that, if I could do that, the meeting would be simple; he would try to convince me that Oliver was a bad guy, and I would have a decision to make based on how trustworthy he was and how convincing the evidence was. I imagined that he wouldn’t be able to convince me of much else besides that he was an extremist asshole and that Oliver was exactly what Oliver had been telling me he was.
To my surprise, Ethan was waiting for me outside the restaurant. I saw him when I pulled up; his presence was unmistakable. If I hadn’t noticed him, I would have noticed the half a dozen women gawking at him. I rolled my eyes and parked my car.
As I approached, I saw the women notice me, and a distinct energy of threat as I walked closer to Ethan. They were sending daggers my way as he recognized me and smiled. His smile was bright and on anyone else would have looked like too big a smile for a face, but on him it was perfect.
“Becka!” he said warmly. “Thank you for meeting me.” He tried to hug me and I could practically hear the women’s thoughts burning through me. What’s he doing with her, she’s dressed like a slob, so frumpy, there must be something wrong with him, small pecker, too good to be true…
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