Chapter 11
Beth
I didn’t know what to expect when this whole thing began with Jacob. I wasn’t expecting raw honesty and so many orgasms in a 24-hour span. But here we lay in his bed on Sunday afternoon, and we still haven’t gotten to the sex. That’s not to say that I’m not overly pleased, because I definitely am. While there may not have been any dick to vag penetration, he has had his mouth on my entire body and has actually made out with me. That’s a rarity nowadays unless you’re in high school and that’s all you have, you know some dry humping and making out. It was nice, and he really excels at the whole kissing part, even though he implied previously that he wasn’t much of a kisser.
Last night, he kept his promise and he made me feel cherished. He made me feel like he wasn’t in this relationship just for the sex. Even though he pleasured my body sexually, there was more meaning behind it. He displayed his appreciation for every inch of my body and he vocalized his needs and wants without having to act on them at that current moment. While catching our breath, we spoke about everything up until now.
He wants to be with me in a relationship, in his bed, and on his arm.
He wants me in public and he wants me in private.
He wants me, period.
Who am I to deny him these things, when he’s so very clearly making his intentions known?
And furthermore, who am I to deny myself all of these things?
We spoke about the past and about how most of his family and possibly associates assumed that Tyson and I were a secret thing, and how I was off-limits because of that assumption. This explained why many of the male employees kept a distance from me over the past five years. We spoke about the night we got together previously and his regret of his actions afterward. We discussed my family and his, our work and our potential future. We talked about subjects that I never thought Jacob Maddox, the forever assumed playboy, would discuss with a person of the opposite sex. We discussed how he knows that I am different from anyone else that he’s been with in the past.
So, I am deciding to leap into the relationship, put myself in the hands of fate and take the step towards being with Jacob Maddox fully.
The first step of that would be to get out of his bed and venture out into the world.
“It’s Sunday.” I start.
He takes his eyes off the newspaper that he’s reading and looks to me for further information.
“Let’s get out of here and do something? Anything?” I plead.
“You want to put clothes on, and be out in public?” he asks.
“With you.” I smile.
He pulls the sheets down from his torso and turns to get out of the bed. Still in his boxers, he walks over to the bathroom. He stops at the doorway and turns to me with a mischievous smile.
“Well, are you coming or do I need to drag you into the shower with me?”
I jump out of the bed, buck naked, and rush after him into the bathroom. I’m not crazy enough to pass up a chance to get naked and soapy with him. No way, no how.
***
Mad Designs was putting on a masquerade ball mid-week that was planned by event coordinators hired by some of Jacob's staff on the marketing and design team. Jacob had been busy signing off on orders and wasn't around much to pay attention to my obsessive need to watch anything involving a mask or dancing.
I called in one of the stylists that make all the models look amazing for all of our lines to make me up for the event. I chose my dress from the upcoming line, a gorgeous number that was made for an evil princess. I stop in front of the full length mirror and admire myself in the black, ots, lace gown with the center slit, double check my Greek-goddess, low up-do, make sure the small jewels along the side of my head are secure. I had directed the stylists to give me silver and black smoky eyes, I also asked them to paint on a mask to stay with the theme. Once I had everything in place, I walked to the living room and noticed that I was ready just in time for Jacob’s text message saying he was around the corner.
Jacob picked me up by car service and stood outside the car as I came out the lobby of my building. He smiles as I approach, and I catalog his attire, noting how handsome he looks in a suit. He wore a fitted, black, single-breasted jacket with shawl lapels and a black dress shirt underneath. The only color to his clothing was a silver pocket square with a three-point fold. On his face, he wore a simple black leather mask and a smile as he pulls me in closer to him and kisses both my cheeks. He opens the door for me and motions to enter, with him following close behind. His hand finds its way to the slit in my dress as he whispers in my ear how beautiful I look. He runs his fingers closer towards my sex, teasing me by never quite making it all the way there. I whimpered as his hand drew back to my knee and blew out a breath that I didn’t realize that I was holding.
As the car pulls up to the curb of the historic Merchants Exchange Building on California Street, I see the red carpet surrounded by local press and photographers flanking the sides, looking for their next local celebrity story. Our driver ushers a few stragglers out of the way to open our door. Jacob exits first, and all I could see was the constant flashes going off as he buttons his jacket and then reaches into the car for my hand. I wasn’t accustomed to this sort of entrance, but Jacob doesn’t seem fazed by it. People are calling his name and as we walk towards the Step and Repeat banner with the Mad Design logo. We take a moment to pose for a few photos at the insistence of Jacob’s mother earlier in the day. Then finally, we retreat inside, make our way to the 15th floor to the Julia Morgan Ballroom and begin mingling with the guests and other employees of Mad Designs.
The ballroom decor was a mixture of purples, black and silver, with pearls on the backs of every chair and black tulle covering white balloons. The lighting was scattered throughout the room as an even disbursement of bright and dim. The room was beautiful, but its guests were magnificent looking. Guests were all dressed to impress in cocktail attire and evening gowns. Some of the men wore old-fashioned white wigs and masks of all shapes and sizes. Some people dressed to the nines, while some stayed simple, and nearly all attendees were wearing masks.
I spot Allison off to the side of the bar and dragged Jacob by hand over to her. She is looking beautiful, wearing a brightly-colored, gradient empire dress and a carnivale style mask. We look like day and night, with her so colorful and me being so dark.
“Well, if I didn’t already know about this thing here between the two of you, I would be picking my jaw up off the floor, like your mother is doing behind you, Jacob.” Allison smiles as we stand beside her.
Jacob looks behind him and turns back, laughing.
“Where’s Ty?” I ask.
“Making his rounds. I wanted booze, he wanted to chat.” She shrugs.
“You can’t drink and chat?” I ask while laughing.
“I can, but standing here beside the bar is quicker for getting my next drink. I need to drink as often as I can.” She smiles.
“Why?”
“Ty wants to knock me up. My days of drinking and enjoying it are limited now that he’s talking about that.”
“You guys haven’t even gotten married yet.”
“You think that’s going to stop my brother? You know how he gets when he gets an idea in his head. She’s fucked.” Jacob laughs, his hand resting on my waist as he hands me a drink.
“See, drink now… chat later.” She says, shotgunning the flute of champagne in her hand and turning around to signal to the bartender for her next drink.
“Slow down there, Sally. You want to be able to walk in those heels.” I say.
“Meh, Tyson can carry me.” Allison shrugs.
“True. But that would be bad press.” I remind her.
“Fuck. Damn you and your logic.” She hands me her new flute and turns to the bartender to ask for water. “I hate you and your common sense.” she playfully sneers at me.
“Hey guys. First public outing?” Tyson asks, sliding his arm around Allison as she leans into him.
“And keeping your fiancée sober-ish.”
“Ah, did she tell you why she’s trying to drink like a college student?” Tyson smiles.
“I am a college student!” she whisper-shouts as we laugh.
“I hate all of you. Beth, bathroom. Boys, don’t be stupid.” Allison says as she grabs my hand and drags me across the room towards the restrooms.
Once we’re in the safety of the restroom and Allison checked under the stalls to make sure we’re alone, she turns to me as she leans against the marble sink areas.
“Dish?” she asks.
“About what?”
“Tyson told me you and Jakey-poo hooked up after our engagement party. Why did I have to hear it from Tyson and why am I hearing about it months after the fact?”
“Nothing ever came out of it.” I shrug.
“Well, something came out of it. You both walked the carpet at a company event tonight, you both are obviously dating and aren’t shy about it. What the deuce?”
“What the deuce?” I mock.
“Shut up, I watched Family Guy while getting ready tonight. Stewie cracks me up.”
“We’re together.” I ignore the tangent that she would go off on and kept us on topic.
“No shit, Sherlock. I’m asking why I’m getting all this knowledge second hand. I thought we were like eskimo sisters or something?”
“Eskimo sisters would be if I fucked Tyson, which, despite what his family thinks, never ever happened.” I scrunch my nose.
“Beside the point, eskimo sister!” She points at me with her hand on her hip as I try to keep a straight face.
Jacob
The media was in frenzy outside as Beth and I walked from the car to the entrance. I wasn’t expecting the large crowd and all the flashing lights when we arrived. While Beth handled the commotion of the public eye gracefully, I was a bucket of nerves. I’m not a fan of being a potential subject of the media, which is one of the main reasons why I rarely went to company events, despite the glares my mother gave me over the years. I would rather deal with the media behind the scenes, and keep my mug out of it. Knowing that I must step up my game, as my mother would call it, and keep Mad Designs on people’s lips, she practically begged until I caved with my ulterior motives for the last event. When I have attended company related events in the past, I would sneak in a side entrance to avoid the frenzy, and leave the same way quickly and undetected, sometimes with a nameless guest on my arm. But this time was different; I enjoyed walking the carpet with Beth, holding her and flaunting our relationship.
I had a surprisingly good time, dancing with Beth, and speaking with others throughout the evening. But, after some time, I couldn’t take it anymore; I needed to be alone with her. My dick was taking control of my brain the more I touched her. The dress she was wearing was practically glued to her body, accentuating her curves perfectly. The slit in her dress was placed just right that if I wanted, I could have found a dark corner, unzipped my pants and slid right into her. So, after several dances, several moments of fighting the urges, I quietly asked her if we could leave. When she smiled and nodded, I grabbed her hand, nodded at my brother as we passed him and then whisked her to the elevator.
As Beth and I left the Merchants Exchange Building, the photographers were sparse outside, but there were still a few left hanging around waiting for someone to leave the event. They knew who I was by now and they knew who she was as they called our names and snapped more photos as we retreated to the town car. As we got in the car, my phone was making all sorts of noises in my pocket, which was definitely out of the ordinary. Beth’s hand settled snugly into mine, while I reach into my pocket and retrieve my phone. My inbox was flooded with Google alerts, all dated for this evening. By the timestamps on the emails, these alerts have been coming in steady since the beginning of the night. I open one e-mail and see a stunning image of Beth, with the headline questioning how long the relationship has been going with the reclusive Maddox brother, I assume meaning me. Another is an image of the two of us, proclaiming that we are the new it couple of San Francisco.
Beth is peering over my shoulder. “Looks like we’ve made some waves.” she says.
“Indeed. We look good together.” I respond, angling the phone screen so she can see the full photo.
“There sure are a lot of emails.”
“I had the PR department set up a Google alert on my phone, so I can stay on top of anything if I got into trouble when I was say, in Vegas or Jersey.”
“You couldn’t do it yourself? Do you know how to set up a Google alert?” She pokes me in the ribs.
“I’m sure if I Google it, I will.” I smile.
More notifications were coming in, one was a report from one of the entertainment shows that stick a microphone in your face, say something funny and make you respond. For some crazy reason, Beth and me attending an event together seemed to be news. The snapshots also included some candid far away ones from when we went to North Beach for some gelato last Sunday afternoon. I shook my head and silence my phone.
“So, are you okay with all this attention?” she asks with concern dripping in her tone.
“What do you mean?” I turn my head to try to look into her eyes, but our noses brush up together and I have to pull back so I can actually see her.
“I know you don’t like to be in front of the camera, that you stray from events because of the media and that you would rather not ever be recognized versus being the face of anything.” she says matter of factly.
Wow! She knows me better than I thought she did.
“I can deal with it. Besides, I was your date. It wouldn’t have been very good of me as your boyfriend, if I let my girlfriend go to a company event – especially a company with my name on it – alone, now would it?” I smile as we pull up to her apartment building.
“My boyfriend,” she says.
“Out of all that, that’s what you grasped onto?” I laugh.
“You said my boyfriend.” She smiles.
“I did. Isn’t that what I am to you?”
“Well, I originally thought you were a good time.” She winks as the door opens and our driver’s hand is extended into the cab. Her hand reaches and I stop her movements. She looks over her shoulder at me with a quirk of her eyebrow.
“I’ll be the only male pulling you out of the car.” I say as I scoot over to get out first. The driver stands back, crosses his hands over himself as I turn, reach into the cab, and grab her hand in mine.
“Would it be too forward of me to invite myself up?” I ask, hopeful.
“I would have thought you wouldn’t have asked and just come up.” she retorts.
“Oh I’ll come, but only after you do at least three times.”
“You, sir, are cocky.” She laughs as we walk through the doors of the apartment lobby.
“It’s not cocky, it’s confidence and it runs in my family. It’s ingrained in us from a very young age.”
“You mean being cocky?”
“Semantics, baby, semantics.” I laugh as we await the elevator.