Текст книги "Mid-Life Love"

Автор книги: Whitney Gracia Williams

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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 26 страниц)

January 19, 2013

Dear Journal,

Today I learned that there is a distinct difference between “forgiveness” and “stupidity.”

Forgiveness is what happens when you can honestly move past something and let it go. Stupidity is what happens when you tell someone “I forgive you” (because it’s the “right thing” to do), but you secretly hope they drop dead right in front of you and tumble into the seventh circle of hell.

That said, I do not forgive Ryan Hayes for cheating on me with my former best friend. I probably never will and I’m perfectly okay with that.

I don’t want to hear any bullshit about how “forgiveness helps you sleep better at night,” because that’s not true. (My seven layer mattress is amazing)

Anyway, I received my evaluations from my associates this week and I waited until Friday to open them. Out of a possible five stars, my score is a 3.8. Now, normally this wouldn’t bother me, because stars are just stars and they don’t mean anything. But this year they were allowed to write anonymous comments with their ratings and I almost went out there and fired every single one of them.

Their comments went something like this: “Miss Gracen is an okay director, but she would be better if she weren’t so stuck up.” “Miss Gracen should trust us with more work.” “Miss Gracen should stop trashing so many of our concepts and send them up to the board.” “She dresses nice but she doesn’t know much about advertising.” “Miss Gracen needs to realize that most of us went to Ivy-league colleges and are more than capable of coming up with great campaign slogans. (Didn’t she go to the University of Pittsburgh? Isn’t that a public school?)”

You know what? I’m not even going to address their dumbass remarks. I just...

“The new sPhone blue. We make Crayola jealous.”

Enough said.

This can’t be my life,

Claire

Chapter 7

Claire

I called in sick to work on Monday. I didn’t want to deal with Jonathan asking me any questions about me standing him up for our date, and I didn’t feel like sitting through another useless brainstorming session.

All I wanted to do was relax.

I dimmed the lights in my bathroom and lit all my favorite candles—vanilla, honeysuckle, and amber. I tossed a few Eucalyptus salts into the tub and turned on the water, squeezing generous dollops of cherry bubble bath underneath the running faucet.

I’d always felt that bubble baths were the best therapy in the world. Hot water and soapy beads had a way of helping me escape to another life—a life where I could sail to anywhere I wanted, a life where I worked because I wanted to, not because I had to.

I stepped into the tub and slid under the suds, letting the warm water lull me into my special place.

Don’t think about work...Don’t think about work...

I pulled my favorite purple vibrator from the side panel and sighed. I hit the “on” button, prepared to put him to work, but the doorbell suddenly rang.

Ugh! Why now?

I figured my next door neighbor had received my mail by accident again and wanted to “personally return it” as opposed to simply sticking it in my mailbox. My neighbors were so syrupy sweet sometimes it made me sick.

I waited to see if she would go away, if she wouldn’t notice that my car was parked right out front, but the doorbell rang again.

Damnit...

I stepped out of the tub and wrapped a towel around myself. Blowing out all of the candles, I put my hair into a high messy ponytail. “I’m coming Mrs. Hamilton! Give me one second!” I rushed downstairs.

I opened the door and saw Jonathan standing there, looking completely irresistible. He was dressed in another perfectly fitted suit—dark gray with an opened collared white shirt, and his stunning blue eyes shifted from my face to my towel; it seemed like he was slowly undressing me.

“Umm hello?” I closed the door halfway and peeked around it. “Why are you here?”

“Hi.” He grinned. “You called in sick today.”

“Okay. And? Do you make house visits every time an employee calls off work?”

“No. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Oh. Well, I am. Thanks for stopping by. Have a great—”

“I actually need you to sign off on your team’s designs before they can be presented this afternoon.” He held a briefcase up. “Every director has to pick a top option.”

Oh my god, I forgot all about that...Why didn’t I remember that the meeting with the advisors was today?

“Are you going to let me in so you can see them, Miss Gracen?” He smirked.

“Give me a minute.” I shut the door in his face.

I rushed upstairs to my room and put on a pair of sweats and a baggy T-shirt. I threw my robe on over it and caught a glance of myself in the mirror.

I look absolutely terrible right now...

I took my time walking down the steps and opened the door. “You sure this isn’t about me standing you up Saturday?”

He smiled and walked past me. “Of course not. This is business, not personal. Do you have a table you can lay these out on?”

I showed him past my unfinished hallway and ushered him into my rustic themed kitchen; I was glad I’d cleaned up this morning.

He set the suitcase on the table and looked around. His eyes met mine and I turned away.

“This is very nice.” He ran his fingers across the hanging bronze light fixture. “Who designed this room for you?”

“I did.” I sat down and opened the briefcase. “I did the paint, the crown molding, everything. It took me two months to get the flooring right. I had to buy it in installments.”

“I’m impressed.”

I pulled out the first few markups and sighed. I was now convinced that I needed to find a way to quit his company in two years, not five. My associates didn’t know shit about marketing. Actually, they didn’t know shit about anything.

None of their ad submissions were as terrible as the ‘the cotton field’ one, but they were still lackluster. There were even misspelled words on some of them.

How hard is it to hit ‘spellcheck’?

“You don’t look too happy.” Jonathan sat in the chair next to me.

“I’m not. My daughters could’ve designed these in ten minutes and done a much better job.”

“Tell them we’re hiring.”

I rolled my eyes. “They hear me complaining about my job every day. I doubt they’d be interested...I guess I’ll go with this one though. It’s simple, modern, and it gets the point across. We can have the art division spice it up if the chairs approve.” I placed the best poster on top and placed the stack back into the briefcase.

I stood up and clasped my hands together. “Thank you very much for bringing this to my attention, Mr. Statham. You can go now.”

“Is that coffee?” He pointed to my coffeemaker. “Can I have a cup before I leave?”

“Don’t you need to get back to work?”

He looked at his watch. “It’s eleven o’ clock. The meeting isn’t until three.”

Ugh, my bath is getting cold...

I walked over to the cabinet and pulled out two mugs, making us both a cup. I didn’t bother asking him how he liked his; I made it just like mine and handed it to him without sitting down.

“Thank you,” he said as he took a slow sip. “How was your weekend?”

“You said this was a business visit. I don’t think that question—”

“The first part was business. Now it’s personal.” He glared at me. “How. Was. Your. Weekend?” He set the coffee down.

So he is mad about being stood up...

“It was um, great. How was yours?”

“Yours was great? That sounds really interesting. What all did you do?” He narrowed his eyes at me and leaned back in his chair.

Try to look away from him, try to look away from him...

“I went for a long run with two of my friends and caught up on some work.”

“Hmmm. You know, I was having a pretty good weekend too. I was spending my nights talking to an extremely beautiful woman. I believe I talked to her every night and we made an arrangement... But then she stood me up on Saturday, so my weekend ended quite terribly.”

“Oh really?” I cleared my throat. “Well, that stuff happens sometimes. It’s all a part of life, young man. Live a little more and then—”

“I’m not sure what I should be more upset about—the fact that you keep insulting me by using my age against me, or the fact that I sat in an empty restaurant waiting for you for two hours.”

He waited two hours?

“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t call you. I just—”

“The last time I was stood up for a date was...” He stood up and walked over to me. “Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever been stood up on a date. It’s such a juvenile thing to do, don’t you think?”

“Yes. It’s quite juvenile. I can’t imagine why someone would ever do that.”

“Hmmm.” He reached down and removed the elastic band from my ponytail, letting my hair fall to my shoulders. “You have no idea why a beautiful woman would stand me up for a date?”

“Maybe there’s a lack of chemistry?” I nearly stuttered.

“No, she and I have plenty of chemistry...”

“Could it be that you two have nothing in common?”

He ran his fingers through my hair. “We talked for quite a while last week...I think we have more than enough in common.”

I shrugged. “Maybe she’s just not that into you then.”

“Oh, she’s definitely into me.” He smirked. “She just won’t admit it for some reason.”

“Well, if it were me, I would just give up and pursue someone else. She did stand you up.”

He tilted my chin with his fingertips so that I was looking directly into his eyes. “I’m not going to give up. She is. And I don’t want to pursue anyone else.”

We stood gazing into each other’s eyes and I realized that I needed to get him out of my house and get back to my bubble bath.

I should use him for inspiration...

“Look, I was in the middle of something very important before you came over, so if you could leave right now so I can get back to it, that would be great. Maybe we can talk about what happened over the weekend at work tomorrow? For the record, I really am sorry I stood you up. I had every intention of being there but—”

He silenced me with a kiss and I kissed him back with a passion I’d never felt before. He reached down and untied my robe, pushing it off my shoulders and onto the floor.

Smiling, he assaulted my mouth with his tongue again, using his hands to tug at the drawstring on my pants.

All of sudden, I felt a vibrating sound going off in my pocket. Before I could reach down and shut it off, he reached into my pants and pulled out my favorite purple friend.

He examined it for a few seconds, blinking. Then he held it front of my face and smirked. “Is this what I was interrupting?”

It’s been four years....Four. Long. Years...

“Claire?” He cupped my chin and held my face so I wouldn’t be able to turn away. “Is this what you were doing?”

“I...” I swallowed. Then I went for it. “What if it was?”

A slow, sexy smile spread across his lips. “Then I think I should finish what you started.” He sealed his mouth over mine again and pressed me against the island, making it hard for me to breathe.

I’d never been kissed like he was kissing me; it felt like I was having sex—with my mouth. He was controlling my tongue with his, molding his perfectly full lips to mine, and biting down on my tongue whenever I tried to catch a breath.

I felt him yanking my pants down, not being gentle about it at all. As soon as they hit the floor, he snatched his mouth away from mine and pulled my shirt over my head, tossing it across the room.

“Come here,” he said as he lifted me on top of the counter. He pushed me onto my back, causing my cookbooks and folders to fall to the floor.

Leaning over me, he fisted his hands in my hair, kissing me again and again. He kept his eyes locked on mine as he quickly stepped back to unbuckle his pants and pull out a condom.

I gasped and sat up, panting as he un-wrapped it. “You always come prepared to sleep with employees when they call off sick?” I looked down below his waist and my eyes widened as far as they could go; his dick was twice the size of my ex-husband’s.

Oh god...

A hint of a smile played on his lips. “Do you always use your sick days to stay at home and play with yourself?”

My cheeks burned bright red and I was about to reply, but he grabbed me by my hips and pulled me closer.

Lowering his voice, he looked directly into my eyes. “Wrap your legs around me so I can fuck you.”

I went stiff. My conscience started to warn me about this—something about how it wasn’t a good idea to sleep with my boss, my much younger boss, but I ignored it.

I wrapped my legs around his waist and tried not to scream as he slowly entered me, as he stretched me way past my limit, filling me in places that I didn’t even know existed.

I felt him swelling inside of me, still trying to fit, and I couldn’t hold back anymore. “Ohhhh.....Oh goddd!”

“Is this how you treat people who ask you out?” He was completely inside of me now, but he was keeping his dick still. “Do you think that’s a nice thing to do?”

I shook my head, exhaling as my body adjusted to his thickness. I wrapped my arms around his neck to steady myself and groaned as he kissed my neck.

He ran his hands up and down my back and whispered, “Are you sure that’s not a nice thing to do, Claire?”

He didn’t give me a chance to answer. He started sliding in and out of me, making me moan with each thrust, making me wish he would never stop.

“I...I...” I tried to catch my breath.

“You sure you don’t like standing them up and making them come after you?” He picked up his pace, thrusting harder and harder, gripping my hips so I couldn’t resist the tempo. “Forcing them to wait for two hours?”

“Ahhhhh....” My mind went blank. I heard him asking me more questions—something about him being upset, but I could only focus on how good this fucking felt. I shut my eyes and surrendered to his control, letting him make my body feel things it’d never felt before.

With his hands secured around my waist, he carried me over to the wall—still buried deep inside of me.

“Don’t move.” He pressed my ass against the wall and pounded into me repeatedly, making me cry out in unbearable pleasure.

I tightened my legs around him as he continued his reckless rhythm, digging my nails into his back each time he plunged into me.

He pressed his mouth against mine to muffle my loud cries, but his kiss only pushed me further to the edge. He thrust into me as deep as he could go, and my insides shattered into millions of pieces; my screams couldn’t be contained.

He found his own release seconds after, and we both slid down to the floor, panting.

I sat still and let the cool wall press into my back, wincing as he pulled out of me. I was trying to focus on something else other than what had just happened, trying to float back down to earth.

I can’t believe I did that...I just fucked the CEO...

I moved past him and fumbled around for my robe, hastily tying it around my body. I ignored the wicked looks he was giving me as he stood up and re-adjusted his pants.

I took a deep breath and rose to my feet, trying to find my words. “I...I need to shower and you need to go to your meeting so—”

“You’re kicking me out?”

“Yes.” I walked over to the table and made sure his briefcase was closed before picking it up. “Here’s your briefcase. I picked ad stock number eighteen...Have a good day.”

He swooped down to kiss me, but I stepped back. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr. Statham.”

He laughed. “See you tomorrow, Claire.”

I sat at my desk and stared blankly at the computer screen. All I could think about was yesterday’s rendezvous with Jonathan and how I should’ve let him stay for another hour or two.

I wasn’t sure if it felt so amazing because I hadn’t had sex in such a long time, or if I should give him all the credit.

I called Sandra. “Hey. Are you busy?”

“Of course not, Miss ‘I-Gave-It-Up-Before-The-Third-Date’!” She laughed. “You never texted me back yesterday! How was it?”

“It was amazing...It was the best sex I’ve ever had in my life. Hands down.”

“Really? Better than sex with your ex-husband?”

Hell yes! “Yes...” I was getting hot just thinking about it. “Do you think if I call in sick tomorrow he’ll come over again?”

“What a turnaround from last week!” She laughed. “Probably. I think he likes you.”

That’s exactly what I’m afraid of...

“Oh! Claire, I’ve got to go. I’ve got an emergency patient out front. I’ll call you later.” She hung up and I reclined in my chair.

Thanks to my constant fantasizing, I hadn’t done much of anything all day and I was considering going home early.

“Claire?” Mr. Barnes stuck his head inside my door. “We’ve finally got an idea I think you’re going to like!”

I highly doubt that...

“I’ll be right there. Give me one second.” I waited until I was sure he was gone, and slipped into another pair of panties under my desk.

That’s pair number two and it’s not even noon...

I walked outside my office, spotted the “idea I was sure to like,” and forced myself not to turn back around.

“Mr. Barnes, I told you this ad was racist last week. It’s still racist...”

“Ah, ah, ah! Look closer!” He brought the poster closer to my face. “It’s not just African American slaves now. We’ve got Caucasian slaves, Hispanic slaves, and Asian slaves—with chopsticks! Tell me that’s not diversity!”

“Okay. I’m going home.”

“Stop, stop! It was a joke. Show her the real poster, Tina.”

His assistant put down the atrocity and held up a simple ad of a sPhone blue floating amongst the clouds. It read, “Light. Airy. sBlue.”

“Wow! I like it!” I smiled. “We may have to play with the words a bit, but the visual is spectacular!”

“Finally! You actually like something!” He laughed. “Could you run this up to Mr. Statham? He’s in the art studio. He’s been nagging me about updates all day.”

“Why can’t you do it?”

“I have a recommendation letter to write for Tina.” He looked at his watch. “It’s due in two hours.”

Why is he always so last minute?!

I grabbed the poster and headed for the elevators. Even though I’d been thinking about Jonathan all day, I didn’t want to see him at work unless I absolutely had to.

I stepped off on the art floor and looked around. There was no one at any of the desks, and all the computers looked like they’d been sleeping for hours.

I walked around to the photography room and saw Jonathan talking to a woman in a purple dress. He smiled at me as I entered, then he turned his attention back to her.

“You think we need to hire more senior photographers, Miss Blanc? Won’t that cause more friction?”

“Not at all.” She shook her head. “We need new talent too. Jillian is retiring this summer and Bailey will be taking an extended maternity leave in March. At the very least, we could use two people on one year contracts.”

“I’ll definitely let HR know that tomorrow, Miss Blanc. Thank you for bringing this to my attention. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow, Mr. Statham. Thanks for letting all of us take the rest of the day off.” She blushed and walked out of the room.

He waited until he heard the ping of the elevators to say anything to me. “To what do I owe this surprise, Miss Gracen?”

“This is the latest idea from our department.” I handed him the poster. “The words aren’t set in stone yet, but we want to keep the visual.”

“Yes, it’s a very beautiful visual...” He wasn’t even looking at it.

I stepped back. “Could you please look at the board?”

“It looks good. I like the clouds. Happy? Now, answer my question. Why are you up here?”

“Were you expecting Mr. Barnes?”

“I was. I’ve been calling him about this all day and wanted his insight on a few other things.”

“Oh...Ohhhh.” I backed away. “So, you’re interested in pursuing relations with male and female employees. Enlightening.”

He let out a low laugh. “I’m only interested in one employee that works here, but I’m not sure how much longer I’m going to be able to deal with her insulting me...”

“Are you always this glib? It’s a major turn off for me.”

“You know,” he said as he rubbed his chin, “I was thinking about asking you out again, but I don’t want to be stood up twice.”

“Well, don’t ask and you won’t have to worry about that.”

“I won’t.” He locked his eyes on mine, pinning me to one spot, leaving me completely motionless.

Shit, I need to change my panties again...

He stood up and walked over to me, smiling as if he knew I was unable to move. He made a full circle around me and then he stopped and reached into his pocket.

“You kicked me out so fast yesterday that I left without giving you your little friend back.” He retrieved the vibrator and held it out for me. “Are you going to take it?”

I blushed and reached for it, but he moved it away.

“I honestly don’t think you need this anymore, Claire.” He rolled it around in his palm.

“And why is that?”

“Because I’m more than willing to take its place. And I can guarantee that I’ll do a much better job.”

My panties were officially soaked. “Um...I should probably—”

“Go?”

“Yes. I should go...I need to finish some work downstairs and get back to—”

“You don’t have anything to do.” He pulled me into his arms and kissed me senseless.

Before I could react, he slipped his fingers underneath my shirt and popped the snaps off my bra. He cupped the back of my neck with his hand—dipping his tongue deeper into my mouth, using his other hand to rub the small of my back.

“Shut the door,” he whispered in between breaths.

“What?” My eyes widened.

“Okay. Door open it is.” He continued kissing me, sliding my shirt off my shoulders, pushing me over to the table that lined the back of the wall. He slid his hands underneath my skirt and groaned, biting my bottom lip as I tried to break away.

Then he tore his mouth away from mine. “Bend over the desk.”

I stilled. I wasn’t sure whether he was serious or not. Sex right now? On company property? His company’s property?

I stood there blinking at him, thinking I’d interpreted that completely wrong.

“Claire...” He spun me around so my back was to his front, so I was facing the wall. “Bend. Over. The. Desk.”

I hesitated, wishing I’d closed the door when he’d told me to. I tried to turn back around, but he wedged his knee in between my thighs and spread my legs apart.

“I hate repeating myself,” he whispered in my ear, sending chills up and down my spine. “Bend over right now.”

I gasped, slowly bending over the desk, pressing my stomach against the flat surface.

“Grab onto the edge,” he ordered, and I obliged.

I felt him pushing my skirt up and moving my panties to the side, letting out a low laugh when he felt how wet I was. I heard the sound of foil paper crumpling behind me and tried to brace myself for his length.

I didn’t get a chance to take another breath before he slid completely into me, holding me by my waist line.

“Let’s see if I can make you cum like this...”

He worked himself into a slow grind, alternating his deep thrusts with short kisses against my neck. As I adjusted to his length—hanging on to the table for support and spreading my legs even wider, he moved his hands up to my breasts and palmed them—rough. He pinched my nipples, twisting and pulling them harshly, giving me pain and pleasure at the same time.

I cried as his thrusts went even deeper, as he held me firm and prevented me from squirming.

“Do you still need your purple friend?” he murmured against my ear. “Does he fuck you better?”

“Ahhh...”

“Answer me.”

I couldn’t. His thrusts were too much. He was starting to speed up and my body was quaking at the unfamiliar sensations.

“So you do need him?” he asked again, and I heard the familiar sound of my vibrator humming against my leg.

I tried to answer him, tried to say “NO,” but the next thing I felt was Jonathan holding the vibrator against my clit—on the highest setting.

“Pleaseeee...” I cried out.

“Please?” He kept holding it right there, simultaneously pounding into me with no mercy. “That’s not what I asked you...”

“Oh—Ohhhhh!” I was about to combust—I could feel it. I tried to reach down and push the vibrator away—to ease some of the pressure away, but his hands were way too strong.

“Answer me, Claire.” He kissed my neck. “Do you still need your little friend?”

“NO...No!” I screamed as my body shuddered and convulsed against him. “No...” I held on to the edge of the table as the last tremors moved through me, as I waited for my heart rate to slow down.

I thought that was it, that that was my orgasm for the day (for the year), and that he would let me go so I could recover, but he didn’t. He dropped the vibrator to the floor and started moving into me with a different rhythm—a slower one, and a different set of tremors began to course their way through me.

I groaned as he caressed my hips, as he kissed my shoulders—showing me a completely different side of him.

I clenched my insides, trying to savor the feeling of the more passionate thrusts, but it was no use. My body gave out once again and I collapsed onto the table, moaning as he pumped into me a few more times to reach his own release.

My legs felt numb, wobbly—they weren’t going to hold up much longer. My heart was racing a million miles a minute and my chest was heaving uncontrollably.

“Let go of the table, Claire,” Jonathan whispered in my ear.

I pried my fingers from the edge one by one and felt myself being pulled down to the floor with him. I didn’t even try to look composed; I sat still, shirtless, with my skirt bunched around my waist.

We were both inhaling and exhaling at the same rate, trying to steady our breathing for what felt like an eternity.

I looked over at him and noticed that he was staring at me, watching my every breath. I wasn’t sure if I should say something or not, but he reached over and grabbed my hand, softly caressing it as he looked into my eyes.

When he saw me reaching for my bra, he grabbed it and slid the straps back over my shoulders. Smiling, he pressed them into place. “Turn around.”

I slowly shifted my body and felt him re-snapping the hooks, planting kisses across my back.

Once I stopped feeling his lips against my skin, I turned around to find him staring at me again, giving me the same look that started this lusty session.

Without breaking gaze with me, he picked up his phone and tapped the screen. “Hello? Angela? Yes. Could you please tell the board that I’m sorry for being late to today’s meeting? Right. Could you tell them I’m on my way? Thank you very much.”

He reached over and ran his fingertips along the silver necklace I was wearing, gently tugging the red flag pendant that hung from it. “Silver looks really good on you.” He stood up and walked towards the door.

“Um, thank you...I guess I’ll see you la—” I stopped mid-sentence once I realized that he wasn’t walking out of the door; he was shutting it. “You’re not leaving?”

“No.” He smiled. “I just thought the door needed to be shut for round two.”