2
Her lithe, little hands across his chest, parting the smattering of curls on his torso. Her hot, warm mouth at his neck where her soft plush lips had lain a million steamy kisses, a thousand appealing, little nips. Her soft, blonde curls cascading into an arc around her slender shoulders, as if she wore a halo. Her hips pressed against his as he thrust into her again, and again. The way her thighs gripped his as he looked down at her, pounding into her in a feverish, animalistic pace. The scent of their mingled sweat and love-making; the sound of his hips slapping against her supple rear—
Garrett woke alone in the massive suite of his home, as he did most mornings. He frowned up at the ceiling for a few, long minutes, trying in vain to recapture the magic of his dream. His body already thrummed with the need his imagination had kindled, yet in the waking world it could not be as all-encompassing as in his dream state. Instead, he closed his eyes and tried to remember the way his sleeping mind had painted such an appealing picture.
Sarah. Sarah, on her back in this very bed. Laying in the white sheets, the deep red velvet of the comforter behind her. She’d looked like an angel, laid bare for him. She’d wanted him, in his dream. Sarah had wanted him just as much as he’d pined for her. She’d come to his bed willingly, and he had taken her in every conceivable way possible. Most of all, he’d made love to her as he’d never made love to any woman before.
His body responded to the memory of the dream, and his hand slid under the covers automatically. He felt guilty to think of her in such a way, but he’d long since stopped trying when she’d turned eighteen. Sometimes forbidden fruit seemed the most tempting, and Garrett tried to tell himself it was just a case of temptation. Yet as he lay in bed, stroking himself to the memory of a dream, he couldn’t deny his attraction for her.
Hours later, when he’d roused himself from bed, he made his way to the kitchen where breakfast was waiting. Mrs. Henderson had been Garrett’s father’s maid, and now worked for him. She was mostly responsible for running the house, but she made breakfast and dinner every day despite Garrett assuring her he did not need her to. Today, he was especially grateful because she’d made eggs, which was a favorite of his.
“Thank you, Mrs. Henderson,” he said as he took the heaping plate from the kitchen, bemused he hadn’t surprised her. “How did you know I was awake?”
“Your shower, dear. It’s rather loud. Even for me.” She gave him a mischievous wink, and Garrett couldn’t help the small smile creeping upon his lips. His expansive shower was the crown jewel of his home, in his opinion. In addition to the myriad of shower heads, it came equipped with a complete surround-sound radio, one he’d blasted Led Zeppelin on while taking his morning shower.
“Sorry about that. I’ll keep it down next time.” He winked at her and she rolled her eyes at him, before straightening her silvery bun.
“You absolutely will not, you cheeky liar,” she chided, smiling up at her employer.
They both knew she was right. Eating in peace, he checked his phone. There was a security alert that let him know Elizabeth had not come home last night— which he deleted without opening, as it was received nearly daily— and then another email from Michael.
Garrett, I need to ask a favor of you concerning Sarah. Since graduating in October, she hasn’t been able to find work in her field. I know your company is in the same field. Any chance she could get a job there, or at least an internship? Please meet me for lunch to discuss.-M. Hemmings
Garrett didn’t need to know the where or when as his best friend was the most predictable of men. If he said lunch, he meant the little mom-and-pop Italian place at one, though he’d be there ten minutes early. Garrett would show up at one, as was expected of him.
*****
Garrett opened the door to the little Italian restaurant, noting that Michael was already in his favored booth. With a slight pang of disappointment, Garrett noted that he was alone, which meant Sarah didn’t know about the job offer on line for her. It could be bad, considering Sarah’s love of plain old disobedience. She’d never stuck a course anyone else had given her, ever. So as Garrett sat down in the booth, he was curious how Michael would pitch the idea to his daughter.
“I’ll give it to you straight,” Michael said as Garrett sat down, not bothering with his normal greetings, “Sarah’s been told ‘no’ to eighteen different interviews. Several were because she didn’t have experience. Some were for bullshit reasons, or because I’m her father, so on and so forth. The list goes on. She can’t escape my shadow, and she can’t seem to get anyone to let her get her foot in the door. She’s got a Master's Degree from Harvard! She should easily find a job. I think really, she just needs the experience. I don’t expect you to pay her, but could you find somewhere for her to intern? You have a business law firm inside the Watt’s tower, so maybe there? I’d feel better with you there,” Michael continued, stress making him splutter his ideas with no end in sight. When he got like this, Garrett didn’t interrupt. Eventually, Michael would come to natural conclusion on his own, and Garrett would wait patiently for it. Besides, it gave him time to consider the situation.
Sarah, in close proximity, every day.
His libido was jumping for joy at the idea, though his brain already knew nothing could or would come of it. Yet, after her birthday in August, he’d had no excuse to see her again. He’d been frustrated at best, and angry at worst. Constantly searching for a way or excuse to see her. It seemed Michael had given him just that reason.
“She wants to be a PR specialist, if I’m remembering correctly?” Garrett ventured, thumb toying with yesterday's’ five o’clock shadow he hadn’t bothered to shave. He knew it true; she’d told him all about it in excited hushed voices before she’d pitched it to her father. Michael nodded in agreement.
“Yes, I was thinking that might be a good fit too,” he admitted, giving his friend a warm smile. “I just didn’t want to impose more than I’ve already asked.”
Garrett smiled, and reached out to pat his best friend on the arm. “Of course she can come work under me as the head of the PR team. At least, she can intern. Celeste will still run the game, but she’ll teach her all she needs to know before she’s hired somewhere. Plus, she’ll have networking opportunities and references. It will work out hugely in her favor,” Garrett smiled, “I will pay her, of course.”
Michael sighed in relief, and smiled at his friend. “Thank you. We just don’t have a PR place to put her in. We could do the smaller companies, but I’m afraid she might be treated too gently, and she doesn't need that. Sarah’s a smart girl.”
Garrett was glad for the table between them, because his libido was already thinking of all the times he’d like to treat her less than gently. The sordid dreams came unbidden to his mind, and Garrett swallowed hard in frustration. He felt guilty for lusting after Sarah, let alone with her father right in front of him, yet his desires were present nonetheless. It seemed his brain was the only part of him that could rationalize the problem.
“So, does she know?” Garrett asked, as the waitress came and delivered their chosen dishes. The staff never asked anymore, they simply started cooking when Michael came in. They both thanked the waitress and dug into the seafood pasta.
“No, she doesn't. But I’ll tell her tonight.” Michael paused to eat another bite, “I know she’ll resent me a little, but I’m her father. That’s part of the package.”
Garrett only hoped that she wouldn’t resent him, too.