Chapter 20 – Carolina
A week later, urges win.
Garrett asked me a couple days ago to black out today— Thursday evening— to work late on a project. I’m still naively entertaining the notion that it could be for strictly professional reasons. He has been doing quite well maintaining his focus and staying away from me except when our work dictates that we spend time close to one another.
I do my best to remain cool and unaffected by his presence, but as time goes on, I can feel my resolve slipping. If I am to keep my job, this meeting has to be just like any other. I had blocked out the evening, as requested, and by the time Thursday evening is here, Garrett and my attraction to him are the last things on the agenda.
It really has been an extremely busy day, so working into the late evening on the project seemed the natural order of things. And it is. When I make my way to Garrett’s office, I discover that he had set out several folders for us to review, and things start out rather businesslike.
“Okay, read me the case summary that the law clerks typed up for us,” he commands, leaning back in his high-backed leather chair.
I read. He’s engrossed in the summary, even asking me to go back a few sentences and repeat myself a few times. He asks me to go to Lexis to find a case, which I do. It’s all very much on the level.
Then, as I find a particularly valuable piece of info, I yell out, “Garrett, hey wait! This is precedent setting. This will prove the plaintiff’s case. Our client will be able to win!”
He steps up behind me to read the screen over my shoulder. I turn back to see his reaction, and it happens.
The look he gives me lasts a second too long, and then he’s kissing me as if there is no other woman on the planet. I stand up, and he takes me into his arms. Even though we’ve had only one brief encounter, he feels strong, familiar, and safe.
As we kiss, I pull off his tie and begin unbuttoning his shirt. I slip my hands inside it and run them along his muscled, tattooed pecs and around to his back, his skin warm and smooth beneath my fingertips. As I continue to undress him, he takes my shirt off, and then my bra and my skirt.
I stand before him in only a skimpy pair of black panties while he wears only his boxers. When he meets my gaze, I can feel that this wasn’t the same as it was the first time. There is no going back now. And I don’t want to go back.
But as he holds me and we kiss, I know we can’t be foolish.
“Do you have a condom, Garrett?” I ask.
It’s been a long time since I’ve had to worry about protection. In my recent past, with Jake, I’d been worried about the opposite— trying to conceive.
He frowns. “I’m not sure.”
“Well, find out,” I protest.
I don’t know who he’s been with, and I have to protect myself.
“It’s okay, I’ll pull out.”
“No… that’s not it.” I bite my lip, frustrated.
I really don’t want to go into my whole history, just to explain to him that it’s not pregnancy I’m worried about. It’s STDs.
He walks over to his jacket and begins feeling around in the pocket.
There is no middle ground here. This has been weeks of holding back, holding out, putting aside raw feelings. I need him to have a condom, so that this can happen.
“Hold on,” he says. “I think I feel one. Yes. I do. I have a condom.”
It looks pretty old, which definitely isn’t ideal, but the fact that he has anything— old condom or new condom— is a good thing. Better than nothing.
He returns to me and we begin to kiss once more. I can feel his thick hard cock pressing against my stomach, and I want him inside me so badly I can hardly breathe. I push his boxers down and take his cock in both of my hands. I stroke him until he is rock hard, and then I take the condom from him and roll it over the length of his shaft. He kisses me hard and then turns me around and bends me over his huge mahogany and oak desk.
I pull my panties down and lets them drop the floor, offering myself to him. They’re bikini style, and my pussy is shaved.
Clearly I’ve been wanting him, waiting for him, even though I’ve been denying that fact to myself. Torturing myself telling myself I can’t have him, when all along I could have. And now I finally am.
He caresses my ass and then positions himself directly behind me. My pussy is quivering with anticipation, I want him so badly.
He reaches between my legs and finds my clit with the tip of his cock. He rubs himself against me, sending shockwaves through my body.
“Just fuck me, please, Garrett,” I whimper.
“You want this inside you?” he teases, rubbing himself all over my ass.
“Yes,” I gasp, nearly begging.
He pulls back and then finally puts the tip of his cock at the opening to my pussy. He teases me a bit more, gently sliding the head of it in and out of me, while I moan and beg him some more.
“Please Garrett, please put it all the way inside me.”
And then, with a single full thrust, he’s inside me. He feels so good. It’s been months and months since I’ve been with a man fully. It’s so perfect, I think I might burst.
He pulls back nearly completely and then drives himself into me again and again, his pace first slow and sensuous, then faster and more frantic. Before long, he is groaning and panting, and I knew he was going to come.
I felt my own orgasm rising, when suddenly he pulls out. I lay against the smooth wood of his desk, my orgasm just out of reach. I turn to see what had happened, and he looks concerned.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“It broke.”
“What?”
“It broke. The condom broke.”
“But you pulled out, right?”
“Um, eventually.”
“Well, obviously eventually. I mean you pulled out…”
“Um, I don’t know. No… I came.”
“Shit!”
I feel distraught. But how can I blame him? It wasn’t his fault at all, but after years of trying to get pregnant, the last thing on my mind is daily birth control like the pill or an IUD. The chances of me getting pregnant are infinitesimal.
He really has nothing to worry about. He hugs me and kisses my neck, and I turn and hold him close, admiring the tattoos lining his chest.
“Listen, don’t worry. I don’t even think I can get pregnant. My doctor said women with endometriosis have a very hard time, almost always needing IVF. My ex husband and I have been through all of the fertility specialists and still nothing worked. That’s why he’s my ex husband. Well, one of the reasons anyway. But seriously, don’t worry.”
“Are you on the Pill?”
“No, but honestly, I can’t get pregnant. Really. The chances are pretty low.”
“STDs? Should I be concerned?”
“Of course not. Clean as a whistle. Uh, you are too, I hope.”
“Yeah. Although this is a conversation we probably should have had pre-sex.”
“But no, no of course,” I tell him, scrambling to reassure him, even though it’s not my fault the condom broke, either. “No STDs. Look, if you are really worried, you should know that my ex husband, whom I loved very much, left me because we tried and tried to get pregnant and couldn’t. We even tried IVF, and it never worked. The doctors said the chances of success were less than ten percent given we had exhausted all avenues… Ugh, TMI. Sorry.”
I cross my arms across my bare breasts, suddenly feeling very exposed and self-conscious.
“No, no it’s okay,” he says, sounding truly apologetic. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”
“I’m just telling you so you don’t worry for the next month. I promise, it’s fine.”
But leaning against his chest, I feel like crying. To my horror, a large tear drips out of my eye. And it isn’t like last time when it’s from being completely satisfied. Instead, I feel the sorrow of the last six months of my life overflowing, in a way that I just can’t stop.
Holy crap, I’m so embarrassed, is all I can manage to think, but he takes me in his arms and holds me, and says, “It’s okay, go ahead and cry. You’re safe with me. I’ve got you.”
Those are the most reassuring words I’ve ever heard. I lean into him and let myself cry, completely giving into all the feelings of fear, loneliness and sorrow that have been welled up within me for so long. And it feels so completely right.