I pulled back and said, as coldly as I could, “Hello, Ethan. I’m here to hear what you have to say.”
He looked at me, confused. “I invited you to dinner.”
“Under the circumstances,” I said, “I don’t really think that’s appropriate, do you?” I was trying to be tough, but, the more I was around Ethan, the more I was drawn to him. The women standing around weren’t being crazy; he had an extremely magnetic energy. I took a deep breath and stood my ground, willing my body and my mind to stop feeling the amount of attraction to him I couldn’t deny I was feeling.
“Let me buy you dinner,” he said, smiling a smile I’m sure made most women swoon. “I don’t want to just hand you papers;” he held up a manila folder. “I want to be able to explain everything to you, and that’s going to take some time. Not to mention,” he lowered his voice, “there are some highly confidential documents in here, and I don’t want to just stand in a parking lot and talk about it.”
I went back and forth, wondering if the information I was about to receive would be compromised if I didn’t go into the restaurant. If I did make him tell me there, would he gloss over important details?
Plus, there was the alcohol component. People tended to become more relaxed and talkative when they’re drinking; perhaps I could use that to my advantage with Ethan.
All of this was true, but, the bottom line was, in spite of my initial plan to not sit down to dinner with him, the truth was, I was drawn to him. I would never admit it out loud, and I would deny it if anyone asked. I was curious about him and about my draw to him, and I knew that I would never again have a good enough reason to have dinner with him than the one I had tonight. So, I consented.
“Okay,” I said. “But an hour, max. I don’t have all night.”
Ethan smiled as if he knew that I had exactly all night, and he nodded. “An hour max. We won’t even order dessert.” He opened the door and gestured for me to enter.
I thought about how surprisingly at ease I felt with Ethan as we walked into the restaurant, my decision made. I had convinced myself that he was going to be a threatening entity, but he was the exact opposite, resembling more the student I had introduced myself to on the first night of the class I’d guest lectured, the first time I’d laid eyes on him. I remembered the women in my class losing their shit over him as well and I had a moment of pity for him, imagining it must be somewhat difficult to go through life always having women’s eyes all over you, getting hit on constantly.
He guided me to a private booth away from the center of the room. I sat first, and he followed.
“You look beautiful,” he said. “Oliver has excellent taste in his personal assistants.” I bit my tongue to keep from correcting him. I was more his girlfriend than his personal assistant, not that I could possibly ever admit that.
“Of course,” he said smoothly, “we both know that you’re far more than just his personal assistant, don’t we, Becka.”
I stared at him. How did he know?
“I don’t know what you mean,” I said coldly. I realized I was going to need to take control of this meeting and not let him hypnotize me with his good looks and magnetic energy. I was here for one reason, to find out the real truth about Oliver and Neuotova, nothing more.
He was staring at me, that same smile playing at his lips. The server came over and, after fawning all over Ethan for a moment, finally managed to take our drink order.
“Does that happen everywhere you go?” I asked, finally.
“What, women flirting with me?” he asked. He leaned back in the booth as if we were old friends. “Yep, pretty much. They sense my energy and they don’t know what to do with themselves.” He smiled as if he was describing me right along with every other woman.
“That must be both annoying and highly effective in getting you what you want,” I observed.
“Sometimes,” he said. He stared at me and I felt myself slipping under his gaze. My body began to send signals that this was someone we were definitely attracted to. I felt my stomach with its butterflies, a wetness between my legs, and I knew if I touched my nipples right now they would be hard as rocks.
“So,” I said, straightening up and clearing my throat. I shook away any thoughts of Ethan in any other sense besides Neurotova and put the business of our meeting back at the forefront. “You said you had some documents that would prove that Oliver was a liar, that he was the one responsible for the animal testing, and that the list of CEOs you showed me was justified and not just a big witch hunt.”
Ethan nodded and reached beside him, grabbing the manila envelope he had been carrying and showed me. “It’s all in here,” he said. He slid it across to me and patted it. “Go ahead, open it.”
I stared at him, then kept my eyes on him as I opened the envelope and took out the sheets of paper. To my surprise, it wasn’t news articles or emails; it was a stack of bank statements. Ethan’s bank statements. He had done a search for transactions from one specific source and printed them out; there were several hundred. I scanned the information for each transaction, my heart pounding in my chest.
The transactions, deposits to an account, went back for years. All ranged between a half a million and a million dollars each. The recipient was Ethan. The sender… was Oliver. I looked for patterns and discovered the checks were deposited roughly once a month.
“What is this?” I asked.
“It’s my silence,” he said. “Bought and paid for. Oliver knows that I know the truth about him. And, he’s willing to pay to keep his dirty secrets under wraps. He’s willing to pay big time.”
The checks went back for years. Admittedly, the evidence looked convincing. But, checks could be forged and so could bank statements. I doubted that would be much of an obstacle for someone with as much money as Ethan had. “What secrets? All this says is that he’s a generous guy. Maybe he’s paying you so you don’t starve to death on the street.”
He looked at me as if he knew that even I couldn’t be that dumb, but that he would indulge me. “I used to work with Oliver, Becka,” he said simply. “I was something of his right hand man, though he’d never admit that. He’d deny until his dying breath that I was ever an asset to Neuotova, but, the truth is, Neuotova wouldn’t be where it is today without me.”
“That still doesn’t prove he does anything wrong,” I said. “I thought you’d have emails or something. Actual… I don’t know… evidence.” I heard my voice faltering.
“Becka,” he looked at me and cocked his head. “Do you really think someone as smart as Oliver would be dumb enough to put his illegal activity in writing? Why would he pay me fifty million dollars a year if not to buy my silence?”
He stared at me and waited for me to answer. Of course, I couldn’t think of a single other reason. He’d been banking on that. He reached across the table and took my hand in his.
“You’re a beautiful woman,” he said. The warmth of his fingers and his palm surged through me straight to where my arousal was centered, and I felt my breath catch in my throat. The room started to spin and, for a moment, the only thing I saw in front of me was his beautiful blue eyes staring back at me. “I want you to have everything you deserve to have in life. I owed it to you to tell you about Oliver and his deceit before you got in with him too deeply. I may be too late, but I hope I’m not.”
He released my hand and I felt the flush rising in my cheeks. I took a long sip of my wine and sat back.
“What exactly did he do?” I asked. “What silence of yours is he buying?”
Ethan went on to tell me a story of how he and Oliver had gone to school together and decided to begin Neuotova with investment money. They knew they had chemistry working together and that they both had bright futures in research ahead. Rather than work for an already existing corporation, they’d wanted to forge their own path.
Ethan was the business man and Oliver had focused on the research. Somewhere along the way, Ethan said he’d discovered inconsis
tencies in the financial records. He had begun an investigation with the help of one of his most trusted interns, and he had discovered that, under the cover of night, Oliver was using animal experimentation to accelerate the research and prepare products for mass release. As he told the story, I tried to imagine a younger Ethan and Oliver at work together; they both hated each other so much, but it sounded like they had started out much like Lisa and me, best friends.
“When I found out,” Ethan was saying, “of course I was furious. I threatened to fire him, but he said I couldn’t because the company would go under. Unfortunately, he was right; he definitely had the upper hand with the research. But,” he took a sip of his beer, “I knew I couldn’t continue working in such a dishonest, unethical environment. I admit my anger got the best of me; I felt like I was trapped. I told him that I would leave, but I also told him that I was going to take him down with me.”
I shook my head. It all sounded so out of character for Oliver. Of course, the entire situation seemed crazy for Oliver or for Ethan. Oliver didn’t seem like the type of man who could harm a fly, never mind a rabbit or a small mouse… but neither did Ethan, now that I was sitting across from him. I didn’t know who to believe; both seemed so compassionate, so committed to the causes they believed in. And, Ethan had some pretty substantial proof right in front of me: bank statements that proved Oliver was paying him off for something. For his silence? For his acquiescence?
“Let me ask you this,” he said, taking my hands again. “I told you things the first night I met you. You’re smart, and I know you began researching my claims immediately.” I tried to stay non-committal in my eyes and didn’t nod or shake my head. “Has anything I’ve told you turned out to not be true?”
I thought for a moment, and slowly shook my head. He had me there.
“So maybe, just maybe, you could trust the evidence I have given you, and know that my interest here is in helping you. I like you, Becka, and I don’t think you have any idea of what you’ve gotten yourself into with Oliver. He used to be a very good man; hell, he was my best friend! But he changed. The promise of wealth changed him.” He shrugged and, for a moment, I saw true sadness cross his face. Either he was legitimate, or he was a hell of an actor. I felt my heart reach out to him.
“I’m really sorry all of that happened,” I said quietly.
“It’s life,” Ethan said, nodding as if he believed it. “And,” he looked at his watch, “I’ve used up the hour I promised I wouldn’t exceed.”
I would have given him more time, but he stood up, so I followed. I had a thousand questions, but none that I could form into actual words.
We paid our tab; he paid, of course, and then we walked out to the parking lot. A whole new crop of women were standing out there waiting for the valet to return their cars, some with husbands and some without. I tried to ignore their stares, tried to act as cool and calm as Ethan, but the wine had gone to my head and, instead of feeling threatened by the women, I found myself feeling an element of possession around Ethan. I put my hand on Ethan’s arm and he slid his arm around my waist. I leaned into him, fitting easily into the crook of his arm and shoulder. I glanced triumphantly at the women and at their narrowed eyes.
He walked me to my car and asked if I was okay to drive.
“I can drive you home if you like,” he offered. “I’ll have someone bring your car to you in the morning.”
“That’s okay,” I said. “I’m fine.” I wasn’t, but I knew drunkenness wasn’t my problem. I had a feeling that as soon as I was out of Ethan’s energy field, my head would clear up pretty quickly.
He leaned in, his hot breath contrasting the cool air of the night, and he kissed me. I was surprised at first, at the sensation of his lips on mine, but my body took over screaming ‘yes, this is right!’ in my head. I leaned into him and he put his arms around my waist, pulling me against his body. My body reacted like it was oil and he was fire; I melted into him and he consumed me. I felt my knees buckle and his strong muscles holding me up. His kiss was deep and hot, his warm lips pressing against mine firmly. I opened my mouth to allow his tongue to slip in, and our kiss deepened. I had my arms around his shoulders and I pulled against them; our bodies were so close it would have been impossible to slip even a piece of paper between us.
“You taste so good,” he whispered, and I pulled away.
“What?” I asked. He’d sounded just like Oliver when he said that.
“You, taste, so, good.” He punctuated each word with a kiss. “You taste like fine wine.”
I let out a small laugh. He was tasting the wine on my lips and my tongue.
“I wasn’t expecting you to kiss me,” I said shyly. I knew it was wrong, it would upset Oliver to no end, but, a voice in the back of my brain reminded me that Oliver and I were not official anything… except that I was officially on his payroll for Neuotova.
“I wasn’t expecting you to show up,” he said back. “So we’re even.”
When I got home that night, I couldn’t sleep for the confusion I was feeling in my mind and my body. The truth was this: regardless of what Ethan had told me about Oliver, I was distracted by Ethan’s body and energy. I was attracted to him, there was no question. Not just to his body and his face, which was enough, but to his energy and his charisma. I was drawn to the fact that he knew he was sought after by every woman with a pulse and probably a lot of men, too.
My phone pinged as I lay in my dark bedroom. I rolled over and clicked the screen, thinking that it may be Ethan.
Oliver’s name flashed on my screen.
How was your meeting with Ethan? the text said.
Oliver
I sent the message and sat back, fuming. I tried to remind myself that Becka was innocent in this. She was the victim of Ethan and was nothing more than a pawn in his revenge against me. Now, it was clear that he was trying to seduce her. She probably had no idea that, while he was kissing her, he had taken a picture of it and sent it to me.
I looked at the image and felt my stomach jerk. Their bodies were so close, and it was obvious that Ethan had been laying it on thick; their mouths were open and the picture had captured what had been a very intimate, passionate kiss. I resisted the urge to throw my phone across the room. I had to stay in control, had to think.
I had just texted Becka and I wished I could take it back. It would upset her, maybe scare her, and I didn’t want to do that.
My phone pinged; it was Becka.
I’m sorry.
I sighed and responded.
No need to be sorry; I told you you should meet with him, right?
I waited, not long, for a reply. It was clear she had no idea how much Ethan was manipulating her.
Do you want to come over?
***
I arrived at Becka’s apartment and let myself in; the door was unlocked. She was in her bedroom, candles lit, wearing a white cami top with matching white panties. I felt my chest tighten and my cock grew hard immediately; she was so fucking sexy.
“I couldn’t sleep,” she said. “Thanks for coming over. And,” she added, “for not being mad at me.”
“Shh,” I said, and I stripped my clothes off. I grabbed my cock and pulled on its length, promising it satisfaction in just a little while. I got into bed with her and began to kiss her. I slid my cock against her warm body and she took me in her hands. Her palms were warm and slippery; she had been touching herself. I reached down and pulled off her panties with my hand; they were soaked with her juices. I groaned and dropped my head down between her legs.
I began to kiss her, starting with her sweet inner thighs, so soft and fragrant. I wanted to tease her a bit, but I couldn’t resist; I dove into her pussy straightaway and began to lick her sweet folds. Her pussy was bare except for a tiny strip of hair at the place where her labia came together; I ran my thumb over that to begin to stimulate her clit. Not that it needed it; each time I ran my tongue across her lips, I could feel the hard nub underneath w
aiting to come out.
She was groaning in pleasure and I held her thighs in my hands as I buried my face deeply into her. I slid my tongue into her vagina and began to thrust in and out, my nose pressing against her clit. With my face that way, the only scent I could smell was hers; it felt like I was in a room perfumed by her scent and it was amazing. Her clit continued to harden and it poked out from beneath its hood. I took it in my mouth and licked, softly at first, then harder as her breathing quickened and she began to moan louder.
“Oh God,” she groaned. “Oh yes!” Her fingers pressed into my shoulders and I felt her nails digging in. She did what she always did when she climaxed, dropped her hips toward me and shuddered, her body trembling under my touch. It was sexy and beautiful, and I wanted to be inside her.
I pulled away and entered her, moving my cock into her all the way to my balls. She was so hot and wet; I could believe how slippery she was. I began to thrust against her, her knees bent and her legs wrapped around me.
“Fuck me hard,” she whispered, and I had every intention of complying.
I knew I wouldn’t last long; she was overwhelmingly hot and my cock was ready to go from the second I walked in the door. When I came, I closed my eyes and felt the sensation move over me. I thrust faster, feeling the friction between us draw my cum out of me, and I groaned loudly as I spent myself inside of her.
When I felt like I could move, I did, sliding out of her, limp and exhausted. I kissed her breasts and she sighed, beginning already to fall asleep. I wasn’t far behind her, and we fell into a slow, sweet slumber until morning.
When I woke up the next morning, the first thought in my head was of Ethan. I needed to contact him and meet with him. He had broken our agreement, and now he had messed with my girlfriend. That would not continue.
Becka
I didn’t hear from Ethan again, and I would have been lying if I’d said he didn’t cross my mind several times a day. I knew it was impossible to contact him, so I turned my focus fully onto more research, working to uncover the truth about the Oliver, Ethan, Neuotova triangle and, in so doing, determine if I had a future in my relationship with Oliver or if I was just another blind believer in his lies. The idea that he might be lying about the animal testing sickened me, especially considering I had worked in his lab and that it was his money, through his ‘anonymous’ donation to the college, that had kept my research on Protame afloat. If he was a liar, then everything I’d done with Protame, all the good, was tainted with the blood of innocent animals.
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