Beautiful Mistakes: Contemporary Romance Boxset Books 1-4

by Victoria Snow

  But as I reached inside his pants, pulled his underwear out of the way, and found his hardening cock, I could see his resolve wavering. All of his possible protests would be meaningless against the lure of a cute redhead sucking his cock.

  I slipped the head into my mouth before it was fully erect yet. I moaned softly, feeling him grow harder in my mouth. I stroked the shaft in quick, firm movements, eager to show him just how much I wanted him.

  Jack squirmed in his seat, red in the face. It looked like he was having trouble maintaining his composure. Our table was mostly private, but anyone could walk by at any moment.

  I heard footsteps behind me. Jack quickly pulled the edge of the tablecloth up over my head, covering his lap completely.

  I held still for a moment, but continued sucking softly on the head of his cock, letting my tongue tease the tip.

  “Here you go, sir,” a voice above me said. I heard a light thump on the table above our head. Presumably our appetizer being delivered.

  “Thank you,” Jack said, his voice tense.

  I pursed my lips against his cock, giving him another tease. He tensed up, taking in a sharp breath of air.

  “Did the young lady with you need something?” the server asked.

  “She, umm...went to the restroom,” Jack said.

  I held back a giggle.

  “Oh, all right,” the server said. I heard their footsteps move away.

  As soon as they were gone, I started bobbing my head again, letting Jack's cock slide between my lips. Jack gasped, thrusting his hips on reflex and almost banging my head up into the table. I kept working his cock, the thrill of doing this in public spurring me onward. I held my breath, forcing myself to take it in deeper and faster. I didn't want to risk being interrupted again.

  Jack slid a hand under the table, putting his hand on the back of my head. He pulled me in closer, forcing his thick cock into my mouth. He took a tight grip on my hair, and the pain spurred me on even more. I was hungry for Jack's cum, and I couldn't wait to taste it once more.

  I could tell he was getting close. His grip on my hair tightened and he kept pulling me in closer and hard. Then he froze, letting go of my head and putting his hands back on top of the table.

  “Here we are sir,” the server said, as she placed more plates on the table above me. “Was there something wrong with the appetizers? It looks like you haven't touched it.”

  “They're fine,” Jack said. “Everything is fine.”

  I didn't stop what I was doing. I tried to keep quiet, but I wanted to make Jack come. I worked my hand quickly up and down his thick shaft, pulling my head back so I could tease my tongue over the head of his cock. He tensed up, holding his breath.

  “Your young lady hasn't returned yet?” the server asked, a touch of concern in her voice. “Do you want me to keep her plate warm for her?”

  I felt Jack's cock starting to spasm in my hand. I stroked it faster, determined to finish the job while the server was still here.

  “She's...she's...” Jack tensed up, losing his voice. Then he let out a long, strained breath, barely seeming to hold back a groan of pleasure as I finally brought him to climax. He grunted softly as he came in my mouth, filling it with his seed. I swallowed, savoring the taste of it.

  “She's just fine,” Jack said, relaxation finally returning to his tone. “Thank you.”

  “All right,” the server said. I could hear some hesitation in her voice, but she left us alone.

  I pumped Jack's cock a few more times, making sure I squeezed out every last drop. I licked the head, cleaning it off for him. Then I peeked out from under the table, making sure no one was looking before I climbed back up into my seat.

  Jack zipped himself back up, then slumped there in his seat, out of breath. He was red in the face, either from the orgasm or from the embarrassment of having it happen right in front of the server. He glanced over at me, a touch of amusement in his eyes.

  “You're something else, aren't you Jillian?”

  I giggled, using my napkin to dab at my lips. “I take it you liked that, then?”

  He nodded.

  I took a bite of my food, sitting up straight and feeling rather proud of myself.

  Jack adjusted his fork and knife, but didn't pick them up. He cleared his throat. “We can't keep doing this, Jillian.”

  I froze, almost dropping my fork. I couldn't believe my ears.

  “What do you mean?”

  Jack sighed. “I mean, it isn't appropriate. Regardless of anything else, I'm your boss. Any kind of relationship we might have would be tainted by that simple fact. If I continue taking advantage of you...”

  I slammed my fork down on the table. “Taking advantage of me? Is that what you call that?”

  He spread his hands out to either side. “Jillian, you're my employee, and you just...”

  “Sucked your cock,” I said out loud. I was in no mood to dance around the issue any more.

  Jack coughed. “Yes, that. And you can imagine how that must look, if anyone were to find out...”

  I pressed my lips together. I was fuming. I couldn't believe this. After what I'd just done for him, after I'd gotten down on my knees for him, he was still pushing me to end the marriage.

  I placed a hand over my belly. I wouldn't even be showing for another couple of months, but I knew there was a tiny life growing inside of me. And I had thought that I could get that child's father to be a part of their life.

  Maybe I'd been wrong.

  “Jillian, listen—”

  “I think I'm done listening to you,” I said. I pushed my plate away and got up, adjusting my skirt to regain a bit of modesty. “Goodbye, Jack.”

  I started walking away. I heard Jack call out to me in protest. I worried that he would come after me, that he would try to stop me from leaving. I worried more that if he tried to stop me, that I'd listen. That I'd give in, instead of storming out. But I didn't want to give in right then. I was angry, and I wanted to embrace my anger.

  I picked up my pace, determined to get away from him.

  I ran out the door and into the chilly evening air. Goosebumps formed on my legs as I hurried from the restaurant as quickly as I could. I didn't know where I even was, really, or how to get home from here. But I didn't care. I just needed to be alone right then.

  I was well away from the restaurant before the tears started to fall. I didn't want Jack to see the way he'd broken my heart.

  8

  Jack

  Jillian avoided me after our dinner date. I couldn't exactly blame her. I hadn't intended to let her turn the night into a sexual one. I'd meant to take her out so we could talk privately, and work things out. Then I'd let things get out of hand.

  Part of me wanted to just let it happen. Jillian was an amazing girl, and she made me feel things I'd never felt before. It was unlike anything I'd ever considered. I kept telling myself that I would maintain a professional demeanor, that I would approach things as her boss, not as a lust filled man. But she made me lose control, and I couldn't help but love every minute of it.

  I consulted with my lawyer about how to proceed with matters. He advised me to keep anything Jillian and I had done as discrete as possible. The legal conditions of an annulment were based, at least in part, on the idea that Jillian and I weren't, and had never been in a relationship. Thus, the marriage would be considered invalid. If anyone found out that Jillian and I were becoming involved, then legal matters would get a lot messier.

  I sent Jillian more emails, asking her to speak with me. She didn't respond. I tried calling her on the weekends. The calls went straight to voicemail. I sent more flowers to her apartment, but nothing worked.

  As time passed, I started noticing a change in the way she looked and acted at work. She'd always been so full of energy, but as the weeks and then months started to pass, she seemed to be slowing down. She moved like she was carrying some kind of weight around with her. I could only assume it was the burden of our
illicit marriage, and the guilt over how things had gone between us.

  She also changed the way she dressed. Even before we'd slept together, I'd always noticed how sharp and stylish her clothes were. She'd always worn dresses and skirts, and while she had never shown too much skin, she'd always looked nice. But her nice dressed slowly gave way to jeans and baggy sweaters. I told myself it was just because the weather was getting colder, but I worried that the change in clothing was a sign of her sinking into depression.

  Before I knew it, Christmas was approaching. I planned a big office party for the entire staff, wanting to reward them for all of their hard work this year. We'd taken on several new clients, and I'd been expanding the programming department to keep up with the increased work load. Everyone would be getting generous Christmas bonuses, though I labeled them “End of Year” bonuses out of respect for the members of my staff that didn't celebrate Christmas.

  I knew the Christmas party was my best chance to get Jillian alone. I couldn't keep letting her dodge me. The only time we'd seen each other in months was around the office, where she steadfastly ignored me unless there was an urgent issue that required my attention. Even then, she usually went through her department head first, so that she wouldn't have to speak to me directly. I knew I couldn't risk calling her to my office for another “private” chat that could turn into something more. I needed a situation where I could talk to her one on one, off the clock, and hopefully away from any eavesdroppers.

  I rented a hall for the party, with a DJ and an open bar, so my staff would get some well-deserved fun for the evening. The night was planned for the week before Christmas, so that it wouldn't interfere with anyone's family plans or vacations. Some of my employees decided to do a “Secret Santa” exchange together, and there was a lot of discussion about it around the office in the days leading up to the party. I opted out, not thinking it particularly fair to be involved, since I was the boss. Though in addition to the bonuses I was giving out, I also had Kelsey send everyone in the office a gift basket.

  I planned something a little more personal for Jillian. Perhaps it was the guilt driving my actions, but I picked out a gift for her personally, hoping that if nothing else, it would show her how sincere I was. I wanted things to be resolved between us. We'd technically been married for months, even if no one knew about it. I felt horrible to think that for months on end, my wife had been avoiding me, her feelings crushed by the way I'd behaved. I had to find a way to make it up to her, even if the end result would still be our eventual divorce.

  The night of the party, I arrived early, to make sure everything was going smoothly. The place was decorated in neutral tones of silver and gold, giving it a holiday feeling without pushing the “Christmas” angle too much. There were a few dozen tables in the main room, with a buffet-style selection of entrees being served at long tables across the far wall of the room. The lights were dimmed, and music was playing. I'd requested that the DJ not go all in on the Christmas music, so a handful of holiday songs were peppered in with a broad selection of popular music.

  I greeted everyone as they arrived, mingling and making some small talk. I wanted everyone to feel welcome tonight, especially since a number of employees had brought their spouses or dates for the evening. I did my best to remember the names of all the husbands, wives, boyfriends, and girlfriends I was introduced to, though I knew by the end of the night I'd forget most of them.

  The night was already well underway when I realized I still hadn't seen Jillian yet. I scanned the room, searching every table for her, but didn't see her anywhere nearby. It was possible she was off in the bathroom, or that she'd stepped outside for some fresh air, but I worried that she might have skipped out on the event entirely.

  Eventually I spotted her. She was tucked back in a dark corner, sitting alone. She was dressed in a rather unattractive red, green, and gold holiday sweater. The kind people usually only wore to “Ugly Christmas Sweater” themed parties. Somehow, of course, she still looked beautiful in it.

  I walked over to her. The party behind us was a bit noisy, but the sound was subdued in this far corner of the room. “You look lonely,” I said.

  She looked up at me. Her hands were pressed against her stomach.

  “Not feeling well?” I asked.

  She quickly moved her hands away. “I...I'm fine. Just something I ate.”

  “Not enjoying the party?” I asked, gesturing to the room behind us. The other employees were talking, laughing, and dancing. I noticed Jillian didn't even have a drink in front of her. “Can I get you something to drink? Wine, perhaps?”

  “No. No thank you.”

  She frowned at me. I wondered if offering her a drink had been bad etiquette, considering that getting drunk together at another party had been how we'd gotten into this mess to begin with.

  “I'm sorry,” I said.

  She shrugged. “It's okay. You should go enjoy your party.”

  “I can't enjoy it while you're sitting here alone in the corner.”

  “Fine,” she said, getting up and slinging her purse over her shoulder. “I'll go home, then.”

  She started to walk away. I touched her arm to stop her. “Jillian, that's not what I meant.”

  She stopped, looking up at me with a deep sadness in her eyes. It made me want to put my arms around her. To hold her close, stroke her hair, and tell her that everything would be okay.

  Instead I said, “Jillian, I've been wanting to talk. We need to talk, really. Can we go someplace private?”

  She frowned, lowering her eyes.

  “Nothing has to happen between us. We can just sit and talk. We can't keep ignoring this issue forever.”

  She let out a humorless little laugh. “You don't know the half of it.”

  I frowned, not sure what she meant by that. Before I could give it too much thought, she sighed and said, “Fine. Let's go talk. I suppose I owe you that much.”

  I led her across the room and through a door that led to a set of stairs. She frowned in confusion, but followed along. We climbed the stairs, with the music down below fading away until it was little more than a soft hum in the background.

  On the second floor, I led Jillian down a secluded corridor. She looked around. There was no one else here.

  “Are we supposed to be up here?” she asked. “I mean, are we going to get in trouble?”

  I chuckled. “No, my dear. Don't worry. I took care of everything.”

  She gave me a suspicious look, but followed my lead nonetheless. We headed to a door that opened into a broad, high-ceilinged room. The lights were on, but dimmed, and soft music played from somewhere unseen. In the center of the room, a single table sat, covered in a white cloth. A silver bucket sat on the table, holding a bottle of wine. A rolling cart sat next to the table, holding a silver serving tray, with a small heater under it to keep the food inside warm.

  “What is this?” Jillian asked, looking over the set up. There were two chairs. I pulled one out for her.

  “I thought we could use someplace private to talk,” I said.

  She narrowed her eyes at me, but an amused smirk touched her lips. “You had this all planned out in advance.”

  I winked at her.

  She sat down. I adjusted her chair, then moved around to sit in my own seat. I opened the bottle of wine, pouring us each a glass.

  I held my glass up and said, “To resolving misunderstandings.”

  Jillian raised her glass, clinked it against mine, then sat it aside, not touching it again.

  I served our meal. Roast lamb with carrots and spiced potatoes. I thought Jillian would enjoy it, but she winced and turned away from the food, touching her hands to her stomach once more.

  “Not hungry?” I asked. I tried to hide my disappointment. I'd meant for this to be a special evening for us. Or at least, a pleasant one. But it seemed like Jillian wasn't enjoying herself.

  “Not really,” she said. “Can we just...can we talk? If you want
to get this over with, then let's do it.”

  I reached across the table and took her hand. She looked up at me, her eyes wide and watery.

  “Jillian,” I said. “I never wanted things to get strange between us. I always hoped that we could resolve things simply and peacefully. It's just gotten more complicated than it needs to be.”

  “It's a marriage, Jack,” she said. “That sort of thing can never be simple.”

  “True, I know.” I sighed, pushing away my plate. I was losing my appetite as well. “But we haven't truly been a married couple. I just don't understand why you won't sign the papers. Then we could resolve this.”

  She looked away. I saw a tear trail down her cheek.

  “Jillian, please,” I said. I reached out and used my thumb to brush the tear away. “Will you tell me what's wrong? Tell me how I can fix this.”

  She took a deep breath. She didn't look up at me. “Don't you think, Jack,” she asked, “that there could ever be something more between us?”

  I sat back in my chair, caught off guard by the question. Of course, I'd thought about it. Jillian had been in my thoughts every day for months. She was a wonderful girl, and when I was around her, I felt full of life. But that didn't mean we could be in a relationship together. There were just too many complications.

  “I don't see how that would work,” I said.

  “That's not what I asked,” she replied. “I didn't ask if it would work. I want to know how you feel.”

  “I feel,” I said, “that you're a wonderful, smart, talented girl...”

  She shook her head. “That's not what I mean. I mean tell me how you feel. What your heart tells you.”

  She looked up at me, meeting my eyes. “Jack, I need to know if you could ever find a place in your heart for me. If you could ever love me...”

  I was stunned by her words. It wasn't as if the idea had never crossed my mind. But I had never let myself consider it. The idea of merely dating her seemed taboo enough. The scandal could tear the office apart, and ruin everything that I'd worked for. But I couldn't deny that my heart had yearned for her each day that we'd been apart. That I ached to feel the touch of her skin again, to taste her lips pressed against mine.