Angelic

“Oh God, Jackson, yes!”

“Yes to staying in the city or yes to going to The Swan?”

“Yes to whatever you want as long as you keep doing what it is you’re doing.”

I opened my eyes to find his face contorted in an expression of ecstatic bliss. I knew he found his release at the same time as the room went black from my own epic orgasm.

I finally came down from my orgasmic high.

What the hell did I just agree to?

He turned on his side laced his fingers in mine. I brushed his sweat covered bangs from his forehead.

“You don’t play fair, do you?” At this point I was not sure if I should be angry for how worked up he got me or excited that he was able to get me to lose myself in the erotic sensations.

I glided my fingers behind his ear and scratched his sweet spot. He was not the only one who knew how to take advantage of a weakness.

“Did you not enjoy being naughty, Angel?” His low seductive growl made all my lady part quiver. “I know I did.”

“So… your place in the city, huh.” I worried my bottom lip. “Please tell me you don’t own one of those pretentious top floor penthouses in some ridiculous high rise?”

I never actually told him I wouldn’t get into an elevator. I had led him to believe it.

Truth was, I could, I just didn’t like to. I had learned to suppress my anxiety about being closed in. It helped knowing at any time, I could push a button and the door would open, giving me my escape.

His gruff laugh answered my question.

“Pretentious penthouse, really, Angel. Do I look like the pretentious penthouse kind of guy?”

“Yup.” No sense in sugar coating it. Mr. Jackson Naile was a womanizer. I was sure it was a prerequisite to own a pretentious penthouse.

He pulled me close and caressed my back in small soothing circles. “You’re not too far off.” He kissed my forehead. His lips anywhere on my body affected me deeply. “My mom is going to Europe for a month and I was going to stay at her townhouse to take care of her cats.”

I bust out in a fit of laughter. “You’re staying at your mommy’s to babysit her cats?”

“Hey, I’m a good son.” He tickled my side in jest. “Of course I want to help my mom. Plus, this way, you won’t have to be exposed to my love nest.”

“Eww, your love nest?” I scrunched up my nose.

Taking my head in his hands, he got a serious look on his face. “I don’t want you anywhere near that place until it has been completely cleared of any traces of the man I used to be before you came into my life. I won’t apologize for who I was, but that doesn’t mean I want to flaunt it in your face, either.”

“Is the great womanizer Jackson Naile secretly a sensitive feminist?” I couldn’t stop myself from teasing him. It was a side of Jackson that could make a woman fall in love.

If I haven’t already gone and done that.

He propped himself above me and slid between my legs, gently pressing them apart. His cock was hard and pressing at the entrance of my pussy.

“It’s not a secret, Angel, I love your sensitive femininity.” He thrust inside me while claiming my mouth.

With my defences thoroughly diminished, I gave in to the sensation of him filling me physically and emotionally. I raised my hips off the bed, meeting his thrust. Our tongues duelled as our lip mashed together.

My hand traced the hard lines of his muscular arms and shoulders. With every blissful orgasm, I clutched to his back, my nails digging into his flesh. Each climb superseded the last. I kept my eyes focused on him, forcing them to stay open as they fluttered with each release.

His palm skidded downward. He reached between us and stimulated my clit. I thrashed wildly on the bed. His seductive moans turned into a loud guttural growl screaming my name in unison of me screaming his.

Sweaty, sated and exhausted, we collapse on the bed wrapped in each others embrace.

It didn’t matter which one of us fell asleep first. It only mattered that we woke up together.

Tuesday was a repeat of Monday.

Work, dinner, cuddle on the couch with movie and popcorn and make love several times during the night.

I sent Jackson to work Wednesday morning, kissed him goodbye and proceeded to prepare for my one o’clock meeting at Naile Public Relations.

I dressed in professional photographer mode but still wanted to be comfortable. A heather grey pencil shirt with a yellow cotton blouse, heels and I was ready. After calling an Uber, I hefted my portfolio on to my shoulders and headed out.

The building was in the high rent district of Tranquility. No surprises there. I remember the discontent from the public over having a ostentatious high-rise in the small tourist town. At least it was located in the business district and not in the down town core. Amongst all the local mom and pop’s, it would have stuck out like a sore thumb.

I walked into the lobby and headed to the reception desk and got directions to the first floor conference room. Anita greeted me with a hug.

“Oh, I’m not being too casual or familiar am I?” Her eyes were wide, almost panicky.

“No, of course not,” I assured her. “I would like to think we were friends after last weekend.”

“Thank you,” she blushed. “This is my first job and our first conference. I’m still pretty green at this assistant, slash public relations co-ordinator thing. I can organize with the best of them; it’s all this polite professional boundaries I’m still figuring out.” She shrugged and laughed it off.

I organized my presentation while Anita exited the conference room to show the caterers where to set up lunch, one of the requests made when I set up the meeting. At the time, it was an excuse to spend more time with Jackson.

That was before he showed up on my doorstep Monday morning. That didn’t mean I couldn’t appreciate a free lunch.

Jackson arrived, looking positively delectable. Has it only been a few hours since I’d seen him last? He left my apartment in his jeans and t-shirt.

The Jackson standing before me was clean shaven. His tailored suit was draped like he should be posing for a magazine cover. His shirt fit neatly across that taut chest that laid naked beside me just this morning.

He took his suit jacket off and hung it on the back of the chair he chose to sit in. I assumed he would take the one at the end of the table. Instead, he took the seat next to where I set up my presentation.

“I see lunch has arrived. Since we are waiting on my in-house photographer’s team, why don’t we eat.” His professionalism was obvious when he made no attempt to flaunt the nature of our relationship.

It was hard to concentrate on my food when all I wanted to do was rip off the buttons of his shirt. I daydreamed about his naked chest pressed against my back while I hiked my profession pencil skirt to my waist.

Would it be too bold to expect him to bend me over the conference table and claim me from behind?

I was taken out of my erotic state when the door to the conference room slammed open. A young woman was flustered and unorganized with an armload of picture boards and glossy pages.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” she apologized. “Rocko called in sick and I had to throw this stuff together this morning. He must have the mockups at his home studio because this is all I could find in the studio here.”

I felt sorry for her. She obviously was not prepared to take this meeting.

“It’s ok,” I assured her, “we really only need the pictures from last weekend on the island. There’s no point in Mr. Naile using any of mine if they’re duplicates of his.”

“Oh, ok, well, everything's here on this memory card.” She handed me the card. “I’m Lizzy, Rocko’s assistant. I should have introduced myself when I came in.”

“Thank you, Lizzy,” Jackson acknowledged. “If we need anything else, we will let you know.”

Flustered at being dismissed, Lizzy picked up the armload she came in with and left.

I placed the memory card into Jackson’s computer and uploaded the images. I looked for any categorized files to find some sort of order. I was especially anxious to see the ones from the morning of the wedding, the ones I asked him to take to help with my wedding album.

Filtering through the photos, it did not take Jackson long to figure out what I realized from the beginning. These picture were absolute garbage. There was nothing in these that were of any use to me.

Not to mention, of any use to Jackson. His entire campaign was going to have to rely on the pictures I’d taken unless he wanted to start from square one. That would entail him sending his photographer back to the island. Unfortunately, there was no way to recapture the ambiance of the wedding.

Yay for me. My photos would be featured in a major Public Relations campaign. It was Jackson my heart broke for. His first professional client, and a major member of his staff had proven to be incompetent.

I reached for his hand and gave it an encouraging squeeze.

“Anita, can you give Angelic and I a moment alone?” His usual soft seductive tone was now cold and unwavering until Anita left the room.

“I got royally screwed, didn’t I?” He placed his hands through his hair and paced roughly.

He stomped over to where I was standing, still dumbfounded by our discovery. He pulled me into his arms and hugged me tightly.

He laughed, “The only decent photo in the entire bunch was the one I took of you.” He sighed heavily.

“This guy came highly recommended. I don’t understand how these pictures look so…amateur.” He sighed. “Fuck, that’s why he didn’t have the nerve to show his face. How did he think he was going to get away with subpar shots?”

I couldn’t let his frustration get to him. “If you hadn’t spent Monday with me in my studio, would you have even noticed how insufficient his work was? He most likely had no idea you would know the difference.”

“In other words, he expected me to be too stupid to know any better.”

I hated that my comment made him feel that way. “Well then, it’s a good thing you know an incredibly talented photographer to pull your ass out of the fire.” I tried to lighten the mood. “It’s quite an amazing ass, by the way. I would hate to see anything happen to that perfectly adorable ass.”

“I can’t fuck this up, Angel. I can’t.” His voice wavered. I knew how important this was for him. I would do anything I could to help him.

I feathered my fingers lightly across his sweet spot. I needed to do something to bring him comfort and restore his confidence. “You know I’ve taken enough shots of the island, they’re yours. Anything you want. It’s yours.”

He cupped my chin and raised my face to meet his fiery eyes, confidence returning.

“I guess I should start looking for a new photographer. Unless I can convince you to come work for me.”

“I don’t think that’s going to work for me, Jackson. I like being my own boss. Taking the jobs I want to do, not what someone else wants me to do.”

It was one thing to help him with this because I could. It was a totally different scenario to give Jackson more control over my life than I’d already had.

It was not about being paranoid or obsessive. It was about keeping some sort of control over my professional life when I so freely gave him control of my personal life. He must understand how important that was to me.

He smiled at my response. That Jackson Naile, the world is great smile. The one he showed the world, the one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. The smile I never expected him to feel he had to use on me.

“I have no clients until next weekend. I can spend my time here helping with the campaign.” I wanted to give him my support. I just couldn’t give him complete control. “I can help interview a new photographer, if you like?”

I wrapped my hands around his neck and stood on my tiptoes. I brought him to me for a soft comforting kiss.

“Do you want me to stick around and see if there’s anything in the studio I can salvage, or do you want some time to process all this?”

“I’m going to call Anita back in and we are going to continue this meeting as planned.” He kissed me on the forehead and headed out to get Anita.

We spent the better part of the afternoon choosing a collection of photos that would work for the campaign Jackson wanted to present to Richard. It was a productive day. I could see the weariness and tension slowly leave his shoulders as the day progressed.

I knew we agreed he would spend the nights at my place until the weekend, however today’s revelation threw a wrench in the mix. Not entirely sure what Jackson was feeling, I wondered if I should question if those plans had changed.

“Will you be going home to change before you head over to my place?” I phrased the question hoping he would interpret it more as a statement.

His eyes met mine. They were tired, unreadable. He hesitated. The silence was deafening.

“Jackson, are you coming home with me?”