Chapter Eight
Brent
It wasn’t often that Brent had a spring in his step on a Monday morning, but today, he was practically skipping. On the way to the docks, his thoughts were full of Jessica and only Jessica. They had spent Saturday night talking and kissing and with more than a bit of heavy petting again, focused on her. He knew she was still inexperienced – could tell from her nervousness overall. He wanted to make everything work for her. Wanted to make sure she set the pace. That Sunday, she had spent the day with him as well, flirting and making out, until Cara had come home, and they had reluctantly separated and focused their energies on her.
After Cara had gone to bed, however, the two of them recoupled, having drinks by the pool, until Jessica had given him a wink, shimmied out of her clothes, and decided to go for a little swim.
It had taken everything in him not to push for more, but they’d done so well letting Jessica be in charge. It calmed her, and she hadn’t pulled away from him once. Her wit and beauty were killing him by inches, but he loved every moment of it.
Brent got out of the car near the docks and saw Carl and Allen already out there chatting. He took a deep breath and headed over to them.
“Morning, fellows.” Brent strolled up to them both and slipped his hands into his pockets. “How was your weekend?”
“Binge-watched terrible shows with the wife,” Carl said. It was his standard answer. If pressed, he would tell them it was his prerogative as an old married man to be fat and boring.
Allen shook his head. “I did some paperwork. I think you’ve got us beat.”
“You get laid?” Carl asked.
“I did not. Allen knows. I went to the zoo with my daughter and Jessica. It was a good time.” Brent shrugged. “The girls loved the animals. Jessica made a contact there. And I got to tag along.”
Carl raised a brow and looked skeptically at Brent before shooting a look at Allen.
“Don’t look at me,” Allen said.
“You know his bullshit better than anyone.”
“That doesn’t mean I can convince him not to do it.”
Carl crossed his arms and pursed his lips.
“Can we get to work before traffic back to the office turns into a quagmire?” Brent strolled past them and looked out onto the ocean. He could see Jessica tasting the Chardonnay, opening wide for a bite of mignon, groaning obscenely deep in her throat when she’d tasted the chocolate.
There were a few dessert places in the city he was definitely going to have to take her to.
“And this guy says he wasn’t with a woman this weekend.” Carl scoffed.
“Liar.” Allen shook his head. “You two visionaries figure out if you even want this place. I’m going to go talk to the harbormaster and discuss budgets.”
Brent exhaled and tried to focus his mind on business. Their company had a lot of critical traction, but like any small independent production studio, they were always working to reduce costs and keep the ledgers balanced. He couldn’t do that if he were thinking of the way Jessica moaned while sipping rich red wine or about the look of ecstasy on her face when she’d come in the back of the limo.
Carl frowned at him. “Man, are you alright?” He ran a hand through his short, graying hair and rubbed the dark skin of his forehead. “Seriously, you’ve been off the last week at least.”
“It’s nothing,” Brent replied.
Then his phone dinged.
He pulled it out instantly in case it was Cara. She had a cell that she kept hidden in her backpack ever since the first hair incident. She was under instructions to text or call him if those hellions attacked her again. He was keeping in-depth records for his coming meeting at the school between himself, the administration, and the head monster’s senator father. Proof was his ally in all of this.
He couldn’t help smiling when he saw that the text was from Jessica, something sweet and simple: Had a great time this weekend. Can’t wait to do it again. J.
“Are you shitting me?”
Brent almost dropped his phone but managed to keep his grip on it despite being startled. Not that his slip wasn’t obvious enough. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said as he shoved the phone back into his trousers.
Carl looked over his shoulder – to where Allen had followed the harbormaster into a building less than one hundred yards away. “Dude, I’m going to say this while Allen’s not here and still distracted. You need to knock this crap off. Jessica is his daughter, and she’s not even half your age! That’s too young, man!”
Brent narrowed his gaze at Carl. He was a great COO and friend as well, but he was an employee. There were lines. Him busting Brent’s balls about Jessica was a huge dash across them. “I don’t answer to you.”
“No, but we’re working hard to keep our projects together and everything afloat. We have a good shot this year to not just go to the Oscars but win one. Besides, you and Allen have been close friends for almost a decade. You’re going to ruin that all for a woman?”
“She’s not just any woman.”
Carl sighed and rubbed his temples. “I’m sure it’s special and magical, and the angels sing…”
Brent shook his head. “No, you don’t understand. I haven’t felt like this in a very long time. Nothing since LeeAnne died. I don’t know what it all means, but I’m not giving what we have up so easily. Jessica isn’t a child; she’s twenty-one, and if she’s old enough to drink, then she’s old enough to make her own decisions in life.”
“You say that now, but I don’t think Allen will see it that way at all if he figures out what you’re doing with his daughter. You can’t do this, man. You have to end it.”
“I can’t back away from the happiest thing I’ve felt since I lost my wife. I’d forgotten what it was to feel like this. After nine years without it, I don’t want to give this up.”
“Do you want to keep your production company? Do you want to be more than just the VP for your father’s telecom company?”
“How can you even ask me that? Of course!”
“Then,” Carl said, gesturing wildly to the harbormaster’s building, “you need to think about everything very carefully. Because our friendships and this production company will not survive a revelation like this coming out. I don’t know how far you’ve gotten, and I don’t want to know. It’s fucking better if I don’t. But you need to end this, or we won’t be a company six months from now, and you know what, man? That sucks. I have a family to feed same as everyone else here. We need this company to work, and you need to keep your dick where it belongs.”
Brent felt his jaw clench, and it took a few minutes to release enough tension to speak again. “Don’t overstep. We’re friends, but you still work for me, Carl.”
“You’re the one who overstepped first, Brent. End it. Or we’re all fucked.”
***
After they had come to an agreement with the harbormaster, Brent made up a lie about feeling a fever and chest cold coming on and went straight back home. He never took time off, usually worked nine to ten-hour days by getting to the office extra early in the morning, so the fact he was having his first sick day in three years had pinged Allen’s radar. While his friend was solicitous, there was a clear confusion in his gaze. Who knew what Allen really thought. It couldn’t have helped that there was thick tension curling between Brent and Carl all morning. Either way, he was home, and he’d be teleworking the rest of the day. Or that was the plan. Until his shitty day got worse and his father wandered into his office.
“Son, that little company of yours will never go anywhere if you take Mondays off.”
“I have the flu or something, and I’m working from home for the first time in years. We’re not about to be shuttered just yet,” he said, pointedly focusing on his computer screen and not at his father’s rat-like face.
“I’m just saying that from my experience, there are a lot of ways for a company to go belly up. A lazy CEO is the first weak link. What is that expression? ‘The fish rots from the head’?”
“You’d know, Dad,” Brent replied, his tone clipped. “I’m finalizing a few details for our next location scouting. Is there anything you need from me, or do you just want to dig in any knives as deeply as you can?”
“Son, I do what I do for your own good. It’s just a solid bit of managerial advice. Then again, I just run the tenth most profitable company on the planet. What would I know about business?”
“We’re doing fine, thank you.”
“Yes, Oscar-nominated in 2017. Isn’t that just another way to say ‘loser’, Son?”
“I am going to lock my door from now on if I’m ever in my home office. This damn complex must have close to one hundred rooms, but you just couldn’t resist barging into mine.”
His father continued, undeterred, “Not that I’d mind if your silly, self-indulgent quest to run a movie studio – out of San Diego no less – ran aground. I’ve always got a spot at the company still warm and waiting for you. One day, a girl as smart as Cara will make an incredibly incisive CEO.”
Brent shot up from his desk and bunched his fists at his sides. “Cara will grow up to do whatever she wants. Right now, it looks to be a marine biologist. In high school or college, who knows? But she won’t have her life dictated by you the way mine was.”
“I didn’t dictate you starting up a wannabe Warner Brothers, Son. Perish that thought,” his father said, leaning against the doorway and stroking his chin. “I’ve given you free rein, and the result has been quite disappointing.”
Brent took in a deep breath to try and dissipate his anger. “You say that, but you’re the one playing games with my child already and just waiting for my studio to fail. I know you think otherwise, but there’s disappointment to go around.”
“Cara’s brilliant like me and like LeeAnne was. Your company has done well enough for over a decade, much to my annoyance. That’s happened outside my sphere of influence. Now, can we actually discuss what I came here for or do you have more accusations to hurl at me?”
“I thought hurling insults at me was why you were here.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. I enjoy guiding you; that’s true. However, I have a busy schedule, and I don’t need this needless aggravation either.”
“You’re the source of it,” Brent muttered under his breath and rolled his eyes. His father brought out his inner fifteen-year-old and always would.
“Anyway, I wanted to talk about this year’s fundraiser for the Sanderson Pharmaceutical and Antibiotic Advances Research Foundation. Have you given it any thought at all?”
Brent sighed and hung his head. He had to admit that he hadn’t – with all the trauma coming Cara’s way as well as securing location shoots for the studio’s newest “baby”. A sharp pain lanced through his chest at the thought. LeeAnne had been his world. Since when did the fundraiser that helped fund the foundation he’d started after her death become just a chore to get to?
“Son?”
“I’m sorry. I haven’t. Cara’s had such a hard time at school and—”
“If you let me take care of it, I’ll make Senator Callahan’s daughter and the senator both very sorry she ever started messing with a Sanderson.”
“No. No threats.” Yet. “I’ve got a meeting soon with him and the administration. I don’t want random blackmail or underhanded brake cutting to happen to them.”
“Oh, Son, I’d never have someone’s brakes cut. That’s sloppy.”
Brent swallowed hard. He was pretty sure those words weren’t a joke. “Anyway, what were you thinking for the fundraiser? We could do an auction again. That went well three years ago.”
“No and no. I’ve already spent three months planning a masquerade ball. I’ve heard they’ve come back in style for the rich and bored due to some popular book series or some nonsense like that, but we can roll with that momentum. The invitations will go out next week, and we’ve booked the Westin ballroom already.”
“Then why are we having this conversation? And drawing precious time away from my darling little studio?”
His father smiled, a look that would make shark’s nervous. “You mean, besides my desire to spend some quality father-son time together?”
“Yes, because it always goes so well for us.”
“I think that you need to seriously try dating again.”
“You do know that Nadia, my last blind date, is now a happily married lesbian, right?” As embarrassing as it had been for Brent, it felt good to throw that back in the old man’s face.
“True. I seem to have a radar for the wrong type of woman to suit you.”
“Understatement.”
“But,” Donald said, standing and starting to pace, “Cara means the world to me, and she’s growing up without a mother. My son should have a woman of standing to match his own. You will bring a date to the first annual masquerade ball in a few months, and she will be part of the cream of San Diego society. That’s a requirement, or you won’t be allowed through the door.”
“You’re going to call security on me?”
His father paused and stroked the goatee on his chin slowly. Thoughtfully. Never a good sign. “I’ll have security bar you from the door, yes. You need to find a suitable wife. I’ve been too patient—”
“I’d hardly say that.”
“For me, I’ve held off because Cara was younger and needed so much more attention and because you’ve fought me so hard. But this ends. She needs a mother at home now that she’ll be a teenager, and she needs someone who can give her the help we can’t when girls like that Callahan bitch torment her.”
Brent wanted to point out that Jessica was doing just fine in that department, but he bit his tongue. That would just send his father off asking even more uncomfortable questions than Carl’s. Hell, the old bastard had practically rubbed Jess’s face in it the minute she’d met him. The last thing Brent wanted was that all-knowing smirk and wretched double entendres from his father’s lips. No, he couldn’t admit that Jessica was already doing just fine as a mother figure for Cara because, the truth was, Jessica was just the sitter. This was a fling, but it could never go anywhere or become a match.
No matter how much he wished things could be different.
After all, his disastrous fight with Carl was just a warm-up for the cataclysm that awaited him if Allen ever found out. His close friend was a good man, but if Allen did learn about the affair, then Brent’s body would be buried somewhere out in the desert with nothing but an old, bleached cow skull as a marker.
Just as any father would do.
He’d do worse if Cara were in the same situation, so he’d harbor no ill will to Allen if this should ever come to light.
“Son?” His father asked, waving his hand in front of Brent’s face. “Do we have an understanding?”
“Yes, Father.”
“Good, make sure your date is a woman of sophistication and class, someone we can all be proud of. I’ve heard lovely things about Katherine Daniels of the Wi-Fi giant, Contact 360. She went to MIT, I believe.”
Brent sighed. “I’ll look her up. Now, I feel like crap, and maybe a hot shower and a change of clothes will help me perk up before Cara gets home. Dad.”
“Of course.” His father parted out of his way, that damn grin still on his face.
You’ve won for now, but I’m never going to be the perfect cookie-cutter VP for you. Not ever.
***
After a hot shower, during which his attention strayed far too often to the silky feel of Jessica’s skin and the sweet hint of honey and mint on her lips, Brent rested on his bed in a pair of jeans and T-shirt. Two shitty confrontations in a row certainly left him feeling sick, even if he wasn’t. Maybe today, they’d do something easy. Cecile usually cooked, but he could ask her to hold off, and they could be regular people and just order takeout.
He bet Cara would like that. Bonus, it would make his father furious, what with all his haughty aspirations. Donald J. Sanderson did not do finger foods.
His phone buzzed, and he hesitated for just a second when he saw it was from Jessica. She hadn’t needed to babysit today since Cara was doing some after-school tech work for the play and would be perfectly supervised until Alex picked her up. Still, it was good to hear from Jessica at any time. No matter what gloomy pall Carl had cast over everything.
He was grateful that Jessica wasn’t the type to demand a lot of texting. He’d much prefer to hear her sexy voice in his ear.
“Hello,” he said warmly.
“I just wanted to, um, see how everything was going with Cara.”
“Did you? She’s not even home from school yet.”
“Well, maybe…”
“Why don’t you tell me what you’ve been doing all day? What will you be doing with your free time tonight?”
“Hmm… I went out to work at a coffee shop this morning and had lunch with a friend from school. I might go see a movie tonight.”
“Is that so? Well, today, I had the joy of suffering a round of verbal fisticuffs with my father. Over a charity event, of all things.”
“Is he going to set you up with another lesbian?”
“No, this time I get to pick my own lesbian.”
“I can set you up. As long as you’re allowed to bring someone with multiple piercings and pink hair.”
“That might be frowned upon.” Brent decided to change the subject before walking off the cliff of whether or not Jessica was all right with him dating other women, even for show. It wasn’t something he was interested in, not now. Of course, he couldn’t go but so far with Jessica in public, could he? No, best to keep the conversation steered to other topics. “So, how are you tonight?”
“Tired,” she replied honestly. “I just got out of a hot bubble bath because I’ve been studying some class notes for finals and my shoulders are fried.”
“I bet that was fun,” he said, slamming his flat palm against his forehead when he realized how bad that sounded.
Jessica, for her part, shocked the hell out of him by answering in a low, sultry tone, “It would have been more fun with you.”
Brent leaned back on his bed where he’d settled after his own shower and tucked the phone under his chin. Something deep down in his bones said he might want his hands free for the rest of the conversation. “I have the same feeling about you, honestly, babe.”
There was a soft chuckle on the other end of the line, and when she spoke again, her voice was a bit more sober, mature: “I… You know I don’t even say things like that, not to anyone.”
“I don’t mind. I know that things are happening fast between us, and we’re not sure exactly how it all looks or will work out. I don’t want you to feel any pressure, Jessica. If you just wanted a little flirty banter over the phone, then it’s all it has to be,” he replied.
“What if I want more?”
The soft hesitance of her question made the blood rush directly to his cock. He wanted everything about Jessica, always had, and the fact she was really asking him to lead her through something as intimate at phone sex had his balls filling with need and arousal.
“You do?” he said, his own voice going into a low bass register from its usual baritone. Reaching down, he let his hand stray over the silky fabric of his boxers. If she heated their banter up any, he’d be ready to put hand on flesh. “Then can I ask what you’re wearing now?”
“Nothing super sexy, just a pink cami and a pair of girl boxers. They do have little hearts on them.”
Brent chuckled. “And how tight is that tank top you’re wearing? Do you have a bra on underneath?”
“No, and it’s an old camisole from high school, so it’s definitely tight.”
“Are your nipples standing up under the fabric?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Will you touch yourself for me, sweetheart?”
There was a sharp inhale of breath on the other line. “What?”
“Do you want to play with your nipples for me?”
A pause for just a beat longer than he hoped and then Jessica’s voice again, a bit unsteady but clear and loud on the other end: “Yes, I just… I’ve never done this before.”
He hadn’t ever either. It hadn’t been anything LeeAnne had been into, and he’d had such long, lonely years since her death. “Me either.”
Incredulity colored her voice. “But you’re this rich, worldly guy. I assumed you’d done everything.”
“I haven’t been part of the mile-high club either. I’ve never had sex on a roller coaster.”
“People do that?”
“Or strapped to a rocket ship.”
She chuckled. “Okay, I get it. Maybe I expected a bit too much wild stuff out of you.”
“I did have a fun youth; I don’t pretend to deny that. I dated widely before LeeAnne and Cara, and all the family responsibilities came along. But you don’t have to assume that just because I’m older.”
“Or a powerful producer,” she added.
“Or that as well – that I’ve always done everything too or that your experiences don’t count. They do, Jessica.”
“Thanks,” she breathed out again. “Okay, so I derailed this to serious territory. I believe you wanted me to touch my nipples, didn’t you?”
“I’d love that, babe,” he said. This time, his hand slipped through the slit in his boxers and to the hard shaft of his cock. It wasn’t as good as it would have been with Jessica’s soft, delicate fingers gripping him, but it would have to do. “So, are you touching yourself yet?”
She was breathing raggedly when she answered, “Yes.”
“How are you doing it?”
“I… I’m rubbing them between my thumb and forefinger. They’re getting so hard and rigid for you.”
She mewled a little on the other end, and Brent wasn’t sure if she’d even realized she’d done it. The sound went straight through him, like pouring extra fire into his already overheated veins. He grabbed a bottle of lube from his nightstand and squirted a bit over his cock. The delightful friction of his hand – God how he wished it was hers – over his dick soon followed.
“What else do you want to do, sweetheart? Where else do you want to touch yourself?”
“I’m wet.”
“Good, then can you put a couple fingers in your pussy for me, baby. I’d love to hear about you doing that.”
There was a slight pause, then the muffled sound of fabric rustling on the other end. He assumed she was getting comfortable. Then, her voice again, her beautiful, angelic voice: “God, it feels so good. I’m entering down there.”
“How wet are you?”
“So slick, so ready for you.”
His own rhythm on his cock increased, a rapid pace that had him breathing like he was running a marathon. Brent gulped in a deep breath of air. “Good, sweetheart, now keep stroking your nipples with your other hand. You’re ready for me, aren’t you? You can imagine it’s my cock in that slick, tight channel of yours, can’t you?”
“God, yes!”
All his nerves were tingling when she answered him, his balls were tightening against his body. He wouldn’t last long, but with Jessica, he wasn’t surprised. She was such a surprise, such a muse that kept driving him.
“I wish you were here, Jess… Wish I had your arms wrapped around my neck… Wish I could smell the lilac perfume you’re always wearing. You’re so beautiful.”
“Wish you were here, too… Wish I felt your stubble across my cheek… Wish I had you inside of me.”
“Soon enough,” he promised. Now all his nerves were sizzling, as if he’d been struck by a huge bolt of lightning, as if he were alive for the first time in so long. Drops of precum seeped from the head of his cock, and he bucked his hips against his hand.
Not long now…
“I need you,” she said. “I want you so badly.”
“Want you too. Fuck yourself with your hand the way you want me to fuck you, just as fast, baby.”
She moaned, and her breathing was a staccato beat after that. “I’m coming!” she screamed not long after. “Oh God, Brent, it feels so good.”
Knowing now that the woman he cared about was satisfied, Brent stopped resisting his own climax. An orgasm swept over him, and it was like being lit up by twenty thousand volts. He came fast, an intense sensation, also hitting him like a freight train. He shivered and leaned back against his pillow.
“That was amazing, thank you, sweetheart.”
“I… Thank you,” she said, her voice small and meek again. “I swear I’ve never done anything like that before.”
“Me either, but I’d like to do that again.”
“Me too.”
He chuckled and sighed. “Good night, babe. I know I’ll be having one.”