Chapter Fourteen
Brady
A week passed. An interesting week; a week that I got to know Dana a little better, not that we were with each other twenty-four hours a day. Enough to realize I enjoyed her company. She was a great conversationalist— when I wanted conversation. She wasn’t overly chatty, like some women constantly trying to impress me. She gave me my space, and I gave the same in return. Dana Sommers was a private person, I realized, a thinker.
She was heading into the end of her semester and insisted on keeping her job at the diner, at least for now. I respected her for that, but worried that my dad would find out and blow a gasket. Well, let him. She was driven, had goals, and pride. That thought made me cringe— involuntarily. How much had it cost her dignity to take on my deal? And what had compelled her to do so?
Desperation. Nothing else made sense. She wasn’t a gold-digger. She wasn’t into the glamorous lifestyle of the rich and famous. She didn’t go out and buy expensive clothes or jewelry or even a car. She seemed quite comfortable in her jeans and t-shirts and tennis shoes. She was confident and focused on finishing nursing school.
I often found her on the sofa with an open textbook on her lap, others beside her, but staring out the window. At such times, I wanted to ask her what she was thinking about. Me? Our deal? Memorizing stuff from her texts? She had a brother, but that’s about all I knew of her background and personal life. Though I certainly felt curious, I didn’t want to pry. Too early in the relationship.
Relationship. Is that what we had? I sighed.
It’d also been a week since we kissed. It didn’t matter to me that the kiss had been faked to impress my dad. It didn’t matter that the kiss had been brief. It didn’t even matter to me much that she had displayed no real emotion behind that kiss, but I couldn’t say the same about me.
That brief kiss had startled me. I hadn’t seen it coming, nor had I anticipated how it would affect me. I’d been kissed millions of times before. Unlike those, however, Dana’s kiss had left me feeling a myriad of sensations, most of which was frustration. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Those lips, so soft and warm, and the moment they touched mine, sending a wave of desire through me. Her kiss wasn’t desperate or needy, or one that intended to impress. No. That kiss had been so simple, so casual, so… nice, that it had nearly taken my breath away.
Mine. The guy who slept with women, then used them as guilt-free as they used me, and then left in the darkness, most of the time, never to see again. But Dana and her simple, gentle kiss had left me… curious. I wanted to know more. See more. That kiss represented only a hint of the passion that I sensed burned deep within her, a passion that I doubted she even realized.
I shook my head. I couldn’t allow myself to become attracted to her. This was a business deal. Nothing more, nothing less. I reminded myself that the only reason she had kissed me in the first place was to play her role, especially with my dad watching. Nevertheless, she had sparked interest, and I couldn’t deny it.
For that reason, I tried not to be around too much. Not that I avoided her, but when I was around her, all I wanted to do was take her into my arms and kiss the living daylights out of her to prove that I was right. That beneath that seemingly naïve and pure persona was a woman who could be as passionate in bed as I thought she could.
So what did I do? Much to my dad’s surprise, I went to work, in my little, used office in his building downtown. At first it was amusing, the looks of surprise I got from people when I started showing up on an almost daily basis. Then it just got annoying. Did they think I would soon grow tired of the monotony? Were some of the ladies surprised that I didn’t try to flirt with them? That I didn’t leave at noon because I didn’t have what it took to focus on business? Everyone knew that I was technically one of my dad’s silent partners, but on the rare occasions that I showed up at the office, it was usually only to check on something one, maybe two days a month. Rarely did I remain more than an hour, if that.
Could I blame them? They knew me, at least superficially. My reputation was no secret. I was in the paper a lot; a different woman on my arm every time, taking exorbitant vacations, drinking. I popped into the office once in a while, but not enough to encourage any of them to think I could be serious for long. It wasn’t that I was dumb. I wasn’t. I had an MBA in business administration.
I was just lazy. Pause for thought. Is that how I wanted people to view me? Unmotivated? Unable to make something of myself? Turning my back on a business that my dad had built through hard work and determination?
Shit.
Like Dana, I had a role to play. Dana was at school anyway, and I wasn’t about to go chasing after her like a lost little puppy. I had to keep this relationship impersonal. I had to force myself to keep my distance from her. At least for now. What better place than the office? I’d kill two birds with one stone. Of course, we still had the baby part of the deal to deal with, but first things first.
So, I went to work. Forced myself to focus on the numbers, the mergers, the deals. Even so, the stack of paperwork on my desk wasn’t completely successful in keeping me distracted from thoughts and visions of Dana; what she looked like with her tousled hair and sleepy eyes when she got up in the morning, wandering around my apartment in that old T-shirt of mine that she now used as her nightgown. The image of that didn’t do much to quell the surge of tension in my groin when I thought of her sleeping in my bed in the middle of the night. My dick had more than a few things to say about that too.
I forced my attention back to the proposal I was reviewing when my personal phone rang. Frowning at the distraction, I pulled the phone from my pocket and glanced at the screen. Nick.
“Hey, Nick, how’s it going?”
“Nothing much on my end. What have you been up to this past week?”
I chuckled, “Paperwork. I’m at the office… spending a lot of time at the office.”
Nick grunted a response. “How are things going with Dana?”
I glanced toward the door, closed of course, but nevertheless lowered my voice so no one could hear me—just in case. “It’s torture. I can’t stand being so close to her and not being able to touch.”
“You want to? Touch, I mean?”
“Hell yes,” I sighed. “But I don’t want to scare her away. She’s not a sex slave. She’s supposed to be my fiancée. But I have to admit, I’m not sure that I can keep playing this farce for a whole year.”
Nick chuckled, “Hang in there, buddy. Maybe you just need to get some action.”
“Maybe you’re right,” I said, then disconnected the call. Instead of returning to the paperwork, I started scrolling through my contact list. Maybe Nick was right. Maybe I just needed a good lay, and then I wouldn’t feel so anxious and frustrated. I scanned through the contacts and found the number of a woman I’d seen a few times, a woman who liked to be spanked. Not exactly into S&M, but maybe just what I needed to ease my growing sexual frustration. I couldn’t remember the last time I went an entire week without. I pressed dial and listened as the phone rang twice.
“Hello?”
My thumb immediately disconnected the call. What the hell? I stared down at the phone screen, wondering what the hell was wrong with me. But I knew. Call me a jerk, but I had a feeling that the only way I was going to satisfy my curiosity about Dana was to sleep with her and not someone else. Sure, I could get my rocks off with anyone, but I didn’t want just anyone. I wanted to do it with Dana.
Besides, we did have to deal with this baby thing. At the same time, I knew she would be hesitant. We were still pretty much walking on eggshells around each other, both of us testing the boundaries. I had no idea what she was thinking. Was she even attracted to me? Did I care?
Ultimately, I decided that the only solution to my immediate problem was to seduce her. Still, that might be tricky. She was no pushover, I had already learned that. I’d seen glimpses of her temper, especially the day we met. If I was too obvious, she’d see right through me. Nevertheless, I had to give it a go. I found her name among my contacts and dialed. I got her voicemail.
I waited for the beep, then spoke. “Let’s go out to dinner tonight, a nice place. Fazio’s. I’ll meet you there after work. The reservation is for five-thirty.”
I disconnected that call and then called the restaurant to make the reservation. My invitation hadn’t sounded exactly like an invitation, more like an order, but I wasn’t about to start giving her control of where or how fast—or slow—our supposed relationship was going to go. Besides, I had to be seen in public with her, especially since I knew without a doubt that my dad was likely watching both of us.
Still, as the hours passed slowly and I continued to force myself to concentrate on the paperwork, all I could think about was Dana.
*
By the time I got to the restaurant, I had a raging headache. I had dealt with more paperwork today than I had in years. I hadn’t seen my dad once, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have eyes and ears all over the building. I had no doubt that he was aware that I’d been around, actually working, most of the week. I just wondered how long it would take before his curiosity overcame his reluctance to check up on me in person.
He knew I could do the work that landed on my desk. I had just never really cared before. I didn’t want to do anything that would make his life easier, but should I keep cutting off my nose to spite my own face? It’s not that I didn’t want a good relationship with my dad. But it seemed impossible. Not with our history.
I pushed thoughts of my past and my dad from my mind as the cab pulled up to the restaurant, looking forward to spending some time with Dana outside the walls of my penthouse. So, I was already smiling as I entered the cozy, semi-dark atmosphere of the restaurant, ready for some good food and even better company. I approached the hostess station, prepared to ask if Dana had arrived, but then, scanning among the early diners, I saw her. Kind of hard to miss. She was so very lovely, her hair pulled back from her face, held in place by delicate looking faux jewel butterflies.
She wore a light blue sleeveless dress with a plunging neckline, but not too plunging, just enough to show the upper mounds of her breasts and some cleavage. Tasteful. Her slender arms rested on the table, her fingers fidgeting with the cloth napkin. Her eyes met mine, and I felt the tightening in my balls and the momentary acceleration of my heartbeat. I did my best to maintain a bland expression, to not give away my true desire for her— sexually. At the same time, I wondered if she felt any bit of attraction for me.
I sat down, prepared for an easy seduction. Unfortunately, it was anything but. Throughout dinner, I tried to flirt with her, but quite surprisingly, I failed. Miserably. I was as tongue-tied as a teenager asking a girl to the prom. Everything that came out of my mouth seemed trite and amateurish. I, who had slept with dozens of women, was trying too hard. I felt like a jerk.
She graciously accepted my compliments and though I turned on the charm, I still sensed a wall of reserve between us, more on her part than mine. She held herself to one glass of wine with her pasta while I limited myself to two, though more than anything I wanted a good stiff shot of Scotch or bourbon. Hell, even a beer. But I was on my best behavior. Unfortunately, my best behavior was getting me absolutely nowhere.
After the main course of linguini with clams, I asked her if she wanted dessert. She shook her head, and so we sipped coffee. In awkward silence. I excused myself on the pretense of the bathroom, but the moment I left the table I walked toward the restrooms scowling and muttering under my breath. I had never experienced such insecurity with women, not since my first fumbling attempts as a teenager. I entered the men’s room and headed for the sink, slapping my palm against the water faucet. I cupped my hands and splashed water on my face and looked up to stare at my reflection in the mirror.
“What the hell is the matter with you?”
The reflection didn’t respond. This was stupid. This whole plan was stupid. I should have known better. But desperate people did desperate things. I should just cancel the whole thing; the pretend engagement, the pretend marriage, and the baby thing. Oh, don’t get any ideas that I was being a gentleman—I wasn’t sure if I even knew how to be a gentleman. If I were to be honest with myself, I had to admit that I didn’t want to soil Dana, and that’s the most appropriate word I could come up with at the moment. Because honestly, all I wanted to do was fuck her. I closed my eyes and lifted my face to the ceiling, slowly shaking my head. And that was the problem. I was the one who was screwed.
I was the one who—
I felt arms around my waist and startled, staring into the mirror. Dana stood behind me, her arms wrapped around my waist. I gaped at her in dismay. But only for an instant. My dick responded to what I could only describe as electrical pulses surging through my body.
I watched those hands in the mirror, stroking my chest, then urging me to turn around and face her.
“Dana..?”
“Don’t talk. Don’t say a word.”
I looked down into her beautiful eyes, pupils now dilated with desire.
Unabashed and certainly not at all hesitant, she splayed her hands on my chest, skimmed along my abdomen, and then, one arm wrapping around my lower back, her other hand ventured downward toward my groin. I was already hard. Her palm skimmed the length of my cock, trapped inside my pants. Instinctively, my hips pushed against her as she stroked.
I wanted to ask her what had happened, why she was so suddenly hot for me, but at the same time I didn’t care. This is what I wanted, wasn’t it? Her hands still groping my erection, she lifted herself up on tiptoes while her arm brushed up my back until her hand grasped my neck and gently pulled my head down. Our lips touched, and once again I felt that same sense of… content? Hell, I don’t even know how to describe it. I’d never experienced it before. Of all the kisses I’d given and received, what made this one so different?
I knew that it was Dana who made it different, but I couldn’t fathom why. I responded to her kiss, my lips pressing firmly against hers, my tongue slowly urging her lips apart and then seeking the warmth of her mouth. Our tongues played tag for several seconds, our excited breath the only sound in the room.
Grasping my shoulders, she propelled me toward one of the stalls. We crowded inside, the back of my knee making contact with the porcelain toilet bowl. I’m not sure which one of us closed the door, but seconds later she stood, her back to it, one hand still stroking my dick, prompting the steady throb that increased to the point I thought I would shoot my wad then and there.
I broke off the kiss only briefly, wanting to look into her face, but then her hand left my groin, and I felt her fingers tugging my shirt upward. Frenzied movements almost, one second tugging at my shirt, and then reaching for my belt buckle. Reluctantly, I broke off the kiss and cupped her face in my hands. I smiled.
“No, Dana, not here.”
Her hand stopped moving on my buckle, and her fingers once again strayed toward my fly. She squeezed against my erection, eyes shining with desire, one eyebrow lifted.
“I want you, obviously, but not here, not like this…. let’s go to back to my place, all right?”
My heart pounded, my skin felt flushed, and I wanted more than anything to slip my hand inside the V-neck of her dress, to squeeze those luscious mounds. I wanted to unzip my zipper and thrust my hard dick deep inside her. I wanted to lift her in my arms, her legs wrapped around my waist, as I plunged into her wetness, but not here. I meant that. Not like this.
Our first time would not be in a men’s bathroom stall. She deserved more than that. She pulled slightly away, her eyes wide and her chest heaving with her own sexual excitement. I wanted to feel her pussy at that moment, to see if it was as wet as I imagined it would be.
“All right.” She looked up at me with a smile. “You pay the bill. I’ll go outside and hail a cab.”