We talked until my voice got tired and he took me to bed, removing my bra. I wanted to have sex again, but we were both too tired, so we just lay there and he stroked my hair and fell asleep and I felt for the first time that I was starting to unwrap the mystery that was Lucah (Lucas) Blaine.
I spent every night of the following week at his place, and Sloane didn’t seem to mind and I didn’t mind and Lucah certainly didn’t mind.
My stuff started making its way to his place and when my period arrived, tampons made their way into his bathroom. He made no mention of it and I was happy that our extra-sexular activities didn’t slow in the slightest. Royce wouldn’t even go near me when I was on my period, but Lucah wanted me as much as ever.
The sex. Je-sus Christ, the sex. I felt like I walked around in a constant state of post-coital glow and even though I wasn’t sleeping for as many hours, I was getting better quality sleep and I felt better.
We’d also finally sort of got our working relationship on solid ground, or at least ground that we both felt comfortable walking on. We practiced speaking cordially to one another when we were naked sometimes and we always just ended up laughing, but no one seemed the wiser in the office.
As long as we kept our interactions in front of others on the up and up, I was pretty sure we were fine. He did do little things to let me know that he was thinking of me. Like asking me if I wanted “coffee” via a sticky note on a stack of files, or brushing against me in the break room, or sending me naughty text messages. As long as he didn’t do anything overt, I didn’t mind. In fact, I kind of looked forward to those little things.
I had lunch with my Dad on Friday because our schedules finally synched up and we had the time.
“You look good, Rory girl. Happy. I haven’t seen you smiling so much in a long time. Any particular reason?” This was going to require more evasive maneuvers on my part.
“Not really. I’ve just been feeling really good lately. Maybe it’s all the cake Sloane’s been making.” Sure. Blame it on cake. Cake was responsible for the fact that I looked like I was on mood enhancers all the time.
“She does make a good cake. I haven’t seen Sloane in a while. You should bring her to dinner.” My parents adored Sloane. Mostly because Sloane could charm anyone.
“I’ll ask her and see if she’ll make some coconut cake for you.” That was Dad’s favorite. I changed the subject and we talked about a trip my parents were taking for their anniversary and the difficulties of me planning the girls’ trip to Jamaica.
“You could always bring them up to Maine. The house is yours to use whenever you want. Or you could go camping.”
He’d offered a bunch of times before, but I just couldn’t see my friends roughing it, not to mention camping. That would be a hell no. Especially not Sloane. She would die without access to a shower, hot water, and her extensive makeup collection. Marisol or Chloe weren’t that much better.
“Thanks, Dad, but we’ll work it out.”
I finished my soup and salad and we split a piece of double chocolate cake, but I could tell he wasn’t done with me.
“Are you sure there isn’t someone special in your life?” I swore he could smell the sex on me, but that was gross and ridiculous.
“No, Dad. I don’t need a man to be happy, do I?”
“Absolutely not. I just feel like there’s something you’re not telling me. But if you say there isn’t, then I believe you.” Ugh. That was the worst.
“Maybe I’m just finally glad I got rid of one,” I said with a wink. Dad had never liked Royce, but since he came from a good family and had money, he couldn’t really say anything or else risk alienating a few of his friends. Rich people were complicated. Yes, I knew I was technically part of that group, but I never really felt like I was a member of it.
“Yes, I think we’re all a little happy about that, to tell the truth.” He gave me the last bite of cake and sat back in his seat. The waiter came back with our check and he ordered both of us tea. I thought we should get back to the office, but I wasn’t complaining.
We sat and sipped and enjoyed the hum of the restaurant around us. Or rather, he did and I chewed my lip and felt like crap about lying to him, but there was absolutely zero way of explaining this to him in a way he would understand, or a way that wouldn’t make him ashamed of me.
Yes, my parents knew I wasn’t a virgin, but having them know that and have them know that I was engaging in an almost purely sexual relationship with someone I worked with was something else entirely. They’d probably call in a priest and break out the holy water. Or at least have some sort of intervention.
And Lucah would be out on his ass before you could say “Daddy’s little girl.” I didn’t mind taking the heat for this, but I didn’t want it to go on him. If it were only about me, I could take it.
I cared way too much about him. I wished it would be possible to freeze a relationship and keep it the way it was. Because right now, things were great. I just didn’t know how long it was going to last.
“Ready to get back to work?” he said, bringing me out of my own head and back into the restaurant. He looked at his phone and then sighed. “It seems Mr. Craig has a new car that I simply must see when we get back.” I rolled my eyes.
“Well, take a ride and tell me how it is,” I said, as he gave me his arm and we walked toward his car.
“Love you, Rory.”
“Love you, too, Dad.” He gave me a big hug before we put our professional faces on and went back to the office. My phone rang as soon as I sat down at my desk.
“How did it go?” He knew I’d been worried about lying to my dad. It was actually kind of sweet.
“It was fine, thank you for your concern, Mr. Blaine. If I’m not mistaken, it’s time for your lunch break.”
“Why thank you Miss Clarke. It seems that it is. Am I going to see you tonight?” As much as I wanted to see him, I really needed a girls’ night, sans penis.
“Um, so how would you feel if I went out with the girls?” I braced myself for him to be pissed.
“I’ll be honest and say that I would rather have you to myself, but I’m not one of those guys who doesn’t know how to share. Middle child, remember?” He kept his voice low because there were a lot of people walking back and forth. I also kept my eyes on my computer.
“Good. I was hoping you weren’t going to be one of those possessive guys who doesn’t want his woman out of his sight.”
“You’re not my woman,” he reminded me.
“True enough. But I swear, I will more than make it up to you. Saturday night? I’ll text you with details.”
“Does this mean I finally get to see your place?” I grinned and hoped that he saw it.
“Maybe. Wait and see.” I hung up without further ado.
Sloane and I had been talking about the situation and she said she was completely supportive, and to show that support, she was giving me the apartment for the night, and she was going to make us a fabulous dinner.
Have I mentioned she was the best friend ever?
She was having so much fun with her new lingerie line that she wanted to pull an all-nighter at her studio and get a collection together to send to her new manufacturer so they could pitch it to her existing clients.
I had something potentially sexy and potentially silly in my head and I was going to ambush him with it when he came to my place. Plus, the extra night off gave me a chance to make my apartment so clean and sterile, you could eat off every surface. I also removed anything that I didn’t want him to see, like stupid fish-faced pictures of me Sloane had taken, and shoved half of my shoes to the back of my closet. Guys were weird about shoes, as in they always thought women had too many, but I say that there was no such thing.
Sloane thought I was being ridiculous, but it was a big deal for me to show him my place. She just didn’t understand.
“So how’s everything going with that guy from work?” Marisol said as we sat at the bar and waite
d for open mic to start.
I’d made Sloane swear to keep her trap shut, and so far she’d kept her word.
“Oh, it was one and done.” I couldn’t deny going home with him the last time we’d been here, but I had decided to tell them that was it, and we were back to our working relationship. It was easier.
“Bummer. Was it bad?” Far from it.
I shrugged and hoped I sounded convincing.
“I was drunk the first time and sober the second and it just wasn’t worth potentially ruining my career over. Plus, can you imagine if Dad found out? I think I’d die of embarrassment.” Yup, probably would. Which was why Dad could never find out.
“Too bad,” Chloe said, pouting. “Is it weird working with him now? I don’t think I could ever screw someone I was working with.”
“It’s not too bad. We’re both adults enough to make it work.”
The three of them burst into laughter.
“You are so full of shit, Rory,” Marisol said, holding onto Chloe. “Tell us the truth.”
I took a sip of my drink and Sloane nudged me under the table. She really had to stop doing that.
“It’s awkward, okay? It’s like we don’t know what to say to each other, or how to act normally. I feel weird asking him to do things, even though it’s his job. So there. Are you all happy now?” I pretended to pout and sat back in my chair.
“Well, that’s what you get for eating where you . . . how does that expression go?” Chloe said and then she and Marisol spent the next ten minutes trying to figure it out as the first victim took the stage. It was a girl we’d seen before and she didn’t fare any better the second time around.
“Anyone else thinking a lobotomy would be a good idea right about now?” Sloane said, squeezing my knee and then changing the subject. A few seconds later I got a text from her.
Got your back. I didn’t message her back, but I volunteered to get the next round and that was as good as a thank you.
“Have you shaved?” Sloane said, sitting on my bed as I got ready for Saturday night.
“Yes.”
“You’re waxed, yes?”
“Sloane. This isn’t the first time he’s seen my downstairs. He’s seen it a lot. So I’m pretty sure he’s cool with how it looks.” He had actually informed me that he thought it was very nice and that it would make a lovely portrait. I hoped he was kidding about the last part.
“True, but you don’t want to let yourself go this early in the relationship. Keep up appearances for a little bit longer.”
“We’re not in a relationship.”
“Then what the hell is it?” She grabbed one of my pillows and tossed it at my ass.
“It’s two people having sex and dinner and dessert and spending time with one another. Not necessarily in that order. Sometimes we don’t get to the dinner part.” I had a feeling tonight was going to be one of those nights.
“You’d better get to my dinner. I slaved away at that for you, bitch.” Another pillow followed the trajectory of the first.
“Okay, okay. Dinner before sex. I got it.” I put on the outfit that he’d first met me in, along with the red pumps, and slicked my hair back into a bun. The only thing that was different was the underwear, which was another Sloane creation, this time in red that matched the shoes, with green vines twisting all over it and even snaking up the straps.
“You promise?” she said, getting up and glaring at me from her height.
“I promise. But I can’t make any promises for Lucah. Once he decides what he wants, he sort of goes for it.”
“Well, you’ll just have to stop him.” I sighed and looked at the clock.
“He’s going to be here soon.” I still had a lot to set up, but I wanted to do it when Sloane wasn’t here.
“Okay, okay, I’m leaving.” She backed out of my room and then got her purse and an overnight bag. “Have fun. Enjoy the food and when he leaves tomorrow you have to call me and give me details.” I agreed and gave her a hug and she slapped me on the ass before she left. So violent, that girl.
I got all the food set up and looking fancy. I didn’t even bother pretending that I was responsible for it, because there was no way I could take credit for Sloane’s cooking. She’d outdone herself with a sweet potato bisque, a fruit salad and steak wrapped around asparagus, with roasted red potatoes. Everything was ready and keeping warm in the oven, and she’d set the table for me as well. I lit some candles and then went back to the bedroom to get everything ready.
Ten minutes later, my phone vibrated and I dashed out to the door to buzz him up.
I unlocked the door and tried to arrange myself in the sexiest possible pose, but ended up feeling like a moron, so just leaned against the counter with my hand on my hip.
A knock on the door made my heart leap and I lowered my voice.
“Come in, Mr. Blaine,” I said in what I hoped was my Sexy Voice. I didn’t really know what that meant, so I worked on emulating the sexy voices of women from old movies. Mae West had nothing on me.
He opened the door and took in my attire. Ha. Speechless. That was what I was going for.
Lucah didn’t look bad himself in a pair of fitted black pants and a white button down shirt. I’d asked him to wear something nice. He shut the door and crossed his arms, and shook his head.
“It’s a miracle I didn’t take you during that job interview. I had to keep adjusting myself so you wouldn’t see me getting hard whenever I looked at you.” I hadn’t noticed.
Slowly, I walked forward.
“Is there anything I can do for you, Mr. Blaine?” I’d made a button and pinned it to my shirt and I could tell he was trying to read it.
“Aurora Clarke, Sexcretary? Is that what that says?” He asked, coming closer and leaning down to read it. I put my finger under his chin and moved his head up so he was looking in my eyes.
“Tonight, I work for you. So, is there anything I can do for you, Mr. Blaine?” I clasped my hands behind me and stuck my boobs out.
“Oh, that is a very, very long list, Miss Clarke. But how about we start with dinner? I don’t know how Sloane got my number, but she texted me that if we had sex and let her dinner get cold, she would never forgive me.” Freaking Sloane. I shook my head and walked to the kitchen and started getting things out of the oven.
“Please sit down, Mr. Blaine and let me serve you. Would you like some wine?” I had a few bottles to choose from because I didn’t know which he’d like.
“Yes, please, Miss Clarke.” His gaze burned over my skin and I really wanted to forget the dinner, but I didn’t want to incur the wrath of Sloane.
I handed him a glass of wine and he reached out and pulled me in, his hand reaching up my skirt and caressing my panties.
“You are a remarkable woman, Aurora Clarke. I don’t know why you came into my life, but I’m damn glad that you did.” I smiled down at him and I wanted to kiss him, but if I did, then it would turn into something else and then Sloane would kill me.
“Same here, Lucah Blaine. Now sit there and I’ll get your dinner for you.” He removed his hand and I made up his plate and carried it over and then made up mine. We’d never eaten dinner at an actual table. It felt formal.
I made sure to keep a napkin in my lap and eat carefully so I didn’t get anything on my shirt.
“How is everything?” I asked.
“It’s really good. You weren’t lying about her cooking skills.”
“She’s one of those people who excels at whatever she decides she wants to excel at. It makes me kind of hate her sometimes, but she’s the best friend I could ask for, so I can’t hate her too much.” We stuffed ourselves and afterward I tried to clear the plates, but he wouldn’t let me.
“I’m your sexcretary. I’m in charge of this part of the evening.” He shook his head and took the plates to the sink anyway.
“You’re undermining my position, Mr. Blaine,” I said in my sexy voice.
“Oh, I think you’ll get
over it,” he said with a wink as he scraped the plates and then started filling the sink with water to rinse everything. I got up and stood behind him, running my hands up and down the front of his pants.
“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?” He may have told me he was doing the dishes, but his pants were telling me a different story.
“Traitor,” he said, and I think he was talking to his dick. Then he dropped the plate he was working on, spun around, grabbed my face and kissed the daylights out of me as his hands worked on the buttons on my shirt.
“Whoa, red light,” I said into his mouth as I pulled away, but hooked my fingers on the waistband of his pants and pulled him toward my bedroom.
“I have to show you something first.” We reached my door and I swung it open to reveal that my bed had been covered with pens, papers, sticky notes and lots of other office supplies.
It took him a second to get it, but then he smiled.
“I think I’m picking up what you’re putting down, Miss Clarke,” he said and walked over to stand next to the bed.
“Oh no!” I said, pretending to be shocked and doing a terrible acting job on purpose. “My bed has turned into a desk. I guess we can’t use it.” I pouted and then Lucah took his arms and swept everything off my bed and onto the floor.
“How did you know I’ve always wanted to do that?” He said as he grabbed me and threw me on the now-clear bed.
“It’s my job,” I said, grabbing him and pulling him onto the bed on top of me.
A little while later, I was lying in my bed-turned-desk-turned-back-into-bed and Lucah was having fun with the sticky notes. I had ones all over my breasts that said kiss me and ones on my shoulders that said bite me and then he was working his way down and putting quite a few lick me and suck me notes in other places.
“You’re still hijacking my job, Mr. Blaine,” I said as he slapped another note on my thigh.
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