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Authors: Evelyn Rosado

The Charade (12 page)

BOOK: The Charade
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“Almost too much. I think he saw me like his little sister.”

“Let me get this straight. The man who’s been fucking your brains out is now your boss?” She asked with a look of amazement.

“I needed the money! Like really, needed the money.”

“And your college sweetheart is your supervisor?”

“Crazy, I know.”

“I swear you would think I’m the one who would have a juicier life and here it is…you.”

“Yeah, some girls have all the luck.” I needed luck to withstand the tornado that might sweep into my life. “Should I quit?”

“Heck no. And miss out on the fireworks?”

“Fireworks.” My tone fell to a murmur. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

***

Victor’s text said he needed to see me in his office right away.

I had to stomp out the embers that still burned for him. I knew I played a dangerous game by coming to work there. I could have held out a few more days and see what other job openings turned up. Regardless of what I told Chandra and no matter how much I lied to myself, I wanted to be near him. Close to him. To know I could touch him or be touched by him at any moment’s notice made me hornier each day that passed. Trying to ignore the desire was unbearable.

But I didn’t plan on Tyson being there. It added another dimension to the maze. Another layer to the puzzle. But my mind was set, Victor was my past.

I took the elevator up to Victor’s office. His secretary had left for the day. His door was wide open.

“There you are. I have something I need to ask you,” Victor said. Back to his normal self; quiet, calm, and emotionless.

“I’m thinking of opening another office. In South Beach. I’m flying there tonight. Meeting with a few developers down there. Come with me.”

“Tonight?” I asked. Fright coursed through my bones.

“Yes. Tonight.”

“Well…”

“You want to excel here correct?”

“Absolutely.” My voice shrieked with hesitancy.

“Since we’re strictly business now, this is outstanding opportunity to learn the business.”

I needed to find an excuse fast. “But what about someone from your executive team?”

“I need fresh eyes.”

“I’ve only been here for a few days. I don’t know anything about this company.”

“You’ll do fine. You’re just worried about one of your co-workers finding out about us – they won’t.”

“Why me?”

“Because you’re not afraid to disagree with me.”

“This is sort of short notice.”

“In business, decisions have to be made at the drop of a hat. There’s no time for hesitation.”

“This is
only
for the company, right? No creeping into my sheets at three in the morning.”

“Only business, Natasha.”

I swallowed hard. “Okay.” I let out a breath of nervous air. “I’ll go.”

Chapter 8

On the flight, he only spoke of architectural designs for the building. Gone were the flirting, playful touching and eye-wandering. Straight laced. It bored the shit out of me. I was a colleague to him, no longer someone who explored I pleasure with. I didn’t like this newfound relationship. I had to live with it – even if I was the one who demanded it.

As we checked in, the hotel clerked handed us the key card. I was shocked to learn Victor and I weren’t staying in the same room. It wasn’t music to my ears. I was supposed to be the done with him, not the other way around!

I sat on the edge of my bed, my glass of pinot grigio almost empty. I looked out the window; huge waves crashed into each other. A light mist blanketed the bustling streets. I wondered what Victor was up to. It wasn’t quite eleven o’clock yet. The night was still young. I stepped outside onto the balcony and I swayed my hips to the faint melodies by the maracas and congas nearby by. Electricity filled the air. The aromas and sounds of the night seduced me. I almost got up and took a walk to soak in Miami’s nightlife, but I was scared to go alone. I looked at my phone – no new messages. Not a single one from Tyson and nothing from Victor. I had a mini bar full of wine, beer and liquor. A girl could at least get a little bit tipsy.

I thought about the last time Victor and I were alone in a hotel suite. I swallowed the last gulp of wine and plopped on the bed. My hands caressed my breasts thinking they were his. A knock on the door woke me from my daydream.

Same old Victor. He just couldn’t resist; just when I thought he moved on from me. I swung open the door to see a man with a cart. A tray of breakfast lay on top.

“Hello. Room service. Your order is ready,” he said.

“I didn’t order anything,” I said.

He looked up at the room number. “Oh I’m sorry. You’re room 435. This is for room 345. My apologies.”

I poured another glass of wine. My imagination swirled. Why wasn’t he trying anything? No mind games, just business. They always said be careful what you ask for. Why Victor hadn’t come down and seduce me puzzled me.

Each time we were in a hotel, we had sex. Incredible sex. Now? Nothing. Not even sharing a suite. It was for the best, I guessed. I had already gotten in too deep with him, now would be a good time to pull myself out.

The music from the streets below seemed to grow louder. I turned my television down to listen closer. The saxophones and trumpets belted flavorful rhythms and got my imagination churning. I envisioned loving couples and new strangers swaying back and forth on the dance floor and then going to the outdoor bar and downing shots of ice-cold tequila. A man playfully squirted a lime in his wife’s face and she slapped him on the arm. They were madly in love. Probably on their honeymoon or five year wedding anniversary. She held his hand tightly as stars reflected in his eyes.

Though the scenario played out only in my mind, I envied the couple. I pulled the covers back and slid in bed. Would I ever experience that kind of love?

***

I couldn’t fall asleep thinking the door would open and he would come rushing in the room. I repeatedly rolled around in the bed all night, thinking he would have a key card to my room; the door would chime and he would scoop me up, take me out on the balcony and fuck me under the bright night of South Beach. Each time I dozed off, my body would jolt and wake up, hoping, wishing, and praying Victor would stampede into my room like a rabid dog. All night the scenario repeated itself. I couldn’t stop. It exhausted me, but I couldn’t stop doing it. I hated myself for it.

I sprang up after my alarm buzzed for 8:30am, still groggy from not getting an ounce of sleep. The bags under my eyes were hard to hide. I looked haggard. Victor would probably kill me. I jumped in the shower and blow-dried my hair. I threw on my outfit and I looked at myself in the mirror before I left the room. It looked like I had been drinking and dancing all night – something I wished I did with him. I grabbed my reading glasses in a cinch. They would at least hide the bags under my eyes. I grabbed a bottle of eye drops out of my purse and squeezed a couple of dots over my eyelids. Perfect. I walked zombie-like towards the elevator.

“You look like absolute hell,” Victor said as he met me in the hotel lobby. All that time spent being paranoid about how I looked and he confirmed it.

“I don’t need the extra commentary. Can we just get this done?” I said.

“The glasses are a nice addition, though. It makes you look astute.”

“Whatever.”

***

Throughout the day I shadowed Victor as he surveyed properties and landscapes for the potential Miami site. He met with politicians, architects, and designers. He was a natural at the art of conversation. He easily related to the people he spoke with despite the many cultural boundaries that existed between them. I stayed silent most of the time; introducing myself to the many people we met, then proceeded to fall into the background. We met with an old friend of Victor’s for a seaside lobster brunch. Shared a cup of coffee with a gentleman from the Miami Chamber of Commerce. We ate seared salmon with a young artist and discussed his ideas for adorning his work at the new site.

Victor’s yacht was docked at a club call Sunset Bay. He finished up an extensive dinner meeting with a Miami city councilman. I ate with the two men, but I excused myself after the chef brought out coffee and Crème Brule. I hoped the gentleman didn’t see the scowl on my face.

I went from object of Victor’s desires to a lowly employee number. A cog in his corporate machine. The trip made me truly realize what I really meant to Victor. Thinking back, I wasn’t much to begin with; Just sex, sex, sex. Amazing sex, but I was missing something. I needed substance, not shattering orgasms. I was done fooling myself.

We said little on the flight home. And by little I meant, we didn’t talk about us. I couldn’t muster up the strength to say what was on my mind. Not only that, but I wanted
him
to say something. Why couldn’t he complement me on the cute, blue pastel dress I wore? Or the new shade of rouge I wore, just for this trip. He didn’t because he didn’t care. For most of the three-hour flight, he rattled on about how headstrong the employee had to be to run the new office down there and how it would be the biggest decision he had to make all year. By the time we flew over what looked like Memphis, I quit listening. And he didn’t stop to notice.

***

A black stretch limo waited for us a short distance after we exited the jet. I was exhausted, frustrated, confused. I wanted to collapse onto bed immediately. One forty-five minute ride and I would be out of his sight – at least for the night.

The door shut to the limo and he began to study his phone. It was if I wasn’t there.

“I can’t believe you,” I said.

The bluish glow from his phone illuminated his face. His face hadn’t flinched. His gaze stayed fixed on the screen.

“Helllooo?” I said. I waived my hand in the air. “Unbelievable.”

“What did you expect Natasha?” he replied. A tinge of irritation filled his voice. His eyes read his screen from left to right, never giving me the common courtesy to look at me as I spoke to him. “This is business. Just what you wanted, right?”

“You could at least acknowledge the fact that I’m alive.” I folded my arms tightly.

“Sure.” His voice changed to a mocking, condescending tone. “The weather in South Beach was fantastic.” He shuffled in his seat and faced me – finally. “It was golly-gee wonderful.” His face frowned and he stuffed his face back into his phone.

“You’re an asshole.”

“This is what you wanted - strictly business. Treat you like an employee.”

“No, treat me like a human being.”

“I’m not one for small talk.”

“Why did you even bring me here?”

“On your resume, you said you like to know a company top to bottom.” He smirked. “Since we already knew each other, I figured it would be a good way to become acclimated to the company.”

“Well then let me shadow other employees. Don’t travel with me a couple hundred miles and basically ignore me.”

“I haven’t done such a thing. I’m a man of few words. I speak with purpose. I leave out the parts that don’t matter.” He loosened his tie. “I thought you at least have understood that about me by now.”

“Somehow this is my fault?”

“You didn’t have to come.” I crossed my legs and swiveled my head away from him. He exhaled deeply. “As you wished, I kept things professional and…it went awry.” I bit my lip and breathed hard through my nose. “Maybe I could have made the mood a bit lighter, but I had a lot on my mind. This new office is a huge step for the company.”

He got up and sat next to me. His hand fell on my knee. I yearned to escape his touch. It was the touch I waited for.

“I don’t get you. How can you sleep with someone repeatedly and not develop feelings for them? Were you raised by a pack of wolves? Were you adopted or something?” I still refused to look in his direction, but is cologne made it difficult not to.

He turned his gaze away from me. “My parents died young. Some people say I have trust issues. Some people say I’m running from the truth. It doesn’t matter. I don’t trust many people, women especially.

They’re usually after my material possessions. So if they’re so shallow to pursue me because of that and that alone – then I’ll be shallow enough to pursue.”

“Victor, I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

“It’s fine. How could you have known? It’s not something I broadcast to strangers.”

“You think of me as a stranger?”

“No. Not you. Especially not you.” The measured, robotic tone he normally spoke with had all but dissipated.

“Do you think about how proud your parents would be if they could see you now?”

His eyes jutted up to the moon roof; the sky dotted with stars. Sadness hinted on his face. “It’s something I’d rather not discuss.” He straightened the lapels on his suit jacket. I planted my hand on his knee and cozied up to him.

That small revelation was enough for me. “I know how it feels. Sort of.”

“Really?”

“My mom is still alive. We’re pretty close, but my dad ran out on us when I was little.”

“That’s terrible.”

“I’ve made it this far without him. You find a way. That’s just what you do.”

“I’m glad you’re here.”

“You have an interesting way of showing it.”

“Natasha I think about you more than you know.” I shook my head in disbelief. “And I don’t mean sexually.”

“I think about you too.”

“You’re more than a number, Natasha. I care about you.”

“Don’t say that if you don’t mean it.”

“I don’t say things I don’t mean.” His fingernail slowly traced a curve from my temple to my chin – his signature move. A current of heat flashed through my body. I desperately tried not to squirm. I still faced the other way, but I knew he smiled. That damn smile. I loved
and
hated it.

I stayed nestled up to him and he held my hand tightly. We were quiet for the rest of the ride back to my place.

***

When we arrived to my apartment, he asked to come inside, but I reject his attempt. I enjoyed seeing him plead for what he wanted. I eventually gave in, he was too irresistible not to.

I put a pot of water on the stove for a cup of tea, while I went into my bedroom to change into a t-shirt and yoga pants. My door creaked open. I jumped from the surprise. I only had panties on. “Victor,” I shrieked.

“Shhhhh. It’s only me,” he said, easing over to me. His eyes skimmed me from head to toe. He put his finger over my moist lips and I puckered them. He slid it into my mouth and I coiled my tongue around it.

His hands enveloped my breasts, kneading them and stroking them. A soft moan dripped from my lips. “I bet you’re already wet,” he said suckling my lower neck. He was right; a river was pouring out of me.

“Why don’t you find out,” I said. I looked at him and his eyes were itching with lust. He threw me on top of the bed and yanked my panties down. Wet kisses coated my thigh up to my moist garden. He pecked it, causing my body to twist. “Don’t tease me. Please,” I said crying out. He pecked again, longer this time. Then his tongue snaked across my little button. It grew with each hot lick.

“You’re drenched,” he said skating a finger inside me. My body contorted and seized. The pleasure was immeasurable. He sucked and slid back and forth making me climax two times in a row. I screamed at the top of my lungs.

“I want you inside me,” I said squirming under his mouth. He had my legs wrapped under his forearms. I couldn’t go too far.

“I thought you’d never ask.” He ripped his clothes off, slid a condom down his already erect cock and mounted me. It seemed like it happened in one fluid motion. His slick body collapsed tightly on top of mine and kissed me deeply. He plunged his beautiful cock into me, filling me up to the brim. My breaths were sharp; an orgasm was near. I had been ready for him as soon as our plane landed in Miami.

“You love my cock don’t you?” he asked looking into my eyes. He could make me say anything he wanted. I nodded frenziedly.

BOOK: The Charade
4.26Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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