CHAPTER SEVEN
Scratch tickets lay across the floor at my grandma’s house. As I scribbled on the back of one, a pizza in one hand, a crayon in the other, I was filled with a childlike whimsy. My grandma sat on the couch beside me watching an old Western on television, cotton stuck between her toes as her polish dried.
“You know what the thing is about these Westerns,” she said aloud, talking to no one in particular. “The bad guys, they aren’t always so bad. And the good guys, they aren’t always so good. That’s life. We all have our own reasons for doing stuff.”
Suddenly, the house began to shake, and the scratch tickets flew around the front room as if trapped in a tornado. I tried to run to my grandma, but the house crumbled on top of us before I could.
Gasping, I woke with a start, my hand over my heart, sweat streaming down my brow. I was safe, but I was still caught in the dream. Outside my apartment, the wind howled, beating against my window like a bat hitting a baseball.
Wrapping myself in a blanket, I went into the front room, frightened by the ferocity of the wind. I wasn’t alone. Julia sat on the couch, sheltered in her own blanket.
“I’ve never seen it so bad,” she said. “We get windstorms, but not like this.”
At the window, I looked down upon the street. Litter was tossed around by the gales, rising almost as high as our apartment. Branches from the trees that lined the street shook, releasing their foliage all over the ground. I wouldn’t be surprised if, come morning, some of those trees had toppled over.
“I’ll make us some cocoa,” I decided. “I know it’s not the season for cocoa, but it’s comforting.”
“I won’t argue with you there,” Julia said. “Cocoa sounds perfect right now.”
An hour later, we still sat in the front room, our mugs empty, the electricity of the storm and the roar of the wind making it impossible to sleep.
“How is the new department going?” I asked her.
Her eyes lit up. “Wonderful. They really respect me, and it’s such a joy to actually be able to apply my degree. I have a lot to offer, and now I get to do just that.”
“Have you talked to Mr. Stafford?”
“No. I told you, once you’re gone, you mean nothing more to him. How is it going for you up there all alone?” she asked with concern.
“I’ve got Peter, but it’s lonely without you. Thankfully, Mr. Stafford and I’ve reached some sort of homeostasis. He messages me when he needs something, and I get it done. It’s a strictly professional relationship. If I’m being totally honest, I kind of miss the friendship that we were starting to build.”
Julia tapped the side of her mug. “In an effort to be a truly supportive friend, I feel I should say something to you. If you ever did want to extend your agreement with Mr. Stafford, I won’t judge you. How could I judge you? I understand the enticement of it all, especially when you’re new to the city.”
I bristled a bit. “I’ve lived in the city before.”
“But not this one. And you know there’s more to the agreement than just the lessons he tries to teach you. When you agree to be loyal to him, he treats you like a queen. On one of our dates, he took me to a Red Sox game in Boston, and I got to meet the players.”
I appreciated Julia telling me that. I would never admit to her, but my intrigue of all the promises Noah made had not diminished. My darker, more sensual side was being drawn out by him, and he had barely even touched me. With his perfect body and his designer suits and his fast lifestyle, he was hard to resist. As the days passed, I began to wonder if he was right when he claimed the ultimate freedom was to live without the burden of choice, no longer tormented by insecurity or indecision.
“So when did nerds get so good-looking?” Julia asked, changing the subject before it got awkward. “I went down to analyze the market value of a new unbreakable beaker for high school science labs, and man did I choose the wrong department. Lab technicians are hotties.”
“That’s because they’re all so stylish underneath their lab coats. Everyone looks better with style.”
“Says the girl wearing pajamas covered in a Japanese cartoon.”
“Anime is my style.” I pulled at a thread on my pajamas, contemplative. “If a new department doesn’t open up that’s more suited to me, then research is probably where I’ll request to go when my year as an assistant is over. I’d like to develop something useful for the environment.”
She grinned. “As long as whatever you develop makes the company a lot of money, you have the approval of my department.”
A formidable burst of wind shook the apartment, causing a few pans in the kitchen to topple over, the bang of their fall like echoing thunder.
“Are we safe up here?” I asked, pulling my blanket closer.
“I want to believe so,” Julia said. “But I think I’ll sleep out here for the rest of the night.”
“Me too,” I decided, and we arranged it so that we were both stretched out on the couch, her head at one end, mine at the other.
Julia laughed. “Look at us. Aren’t we a couple of old grandmas.”
With a comedy playing on the television in the background, it didn’t take long for Julia to drift off. She kept laughing in her sleep, for reasons I doubted had much to do with a comedy invading her dreams. She was happy. Being promoted suited her. She was where she belonged.
I thought of Noah again. I hadn’t actually seen him in two weeks. We only communicated through messages on my wrist device. It was probably one of his games. He was ignoring me to catch my interest.
It was working.
***
The microchip in my arm didn’t work. I ran it in front of the door to Noah’s office, my white dress reflected in the solid gold sheathing, but it wouldn’t scan. None of the doors that led me to Noah were willing to open.
“Noah,” I called, knocking on the door. It hurt my knuckles. “Let me in. I want to talk to you. You can’t avoid me forever.”
“He’s not in,” Peter said, coming up behind me. “He hasn’t been in all week.”
“Is that normal?” I asked.
“Not for him.”
“Maybe he’s traveling,” I speculated.
Peter didn’t think so. “If he were, we’d both be traveling with him.”
Worried, I knocked on the door again, knowing it would do no good, stopping only when a shrill alarm sounded throughout the building. Instantly, I covered my ears, protecting them from the horrendous noise.
“What is that?” I asked, shouting over the alarm. “Did one of the monster robots get loose?”
“It’s an emergency drill,” Peter informed me. “It’ll be over in a second, followed by a message.”
The alarm did stop, but there was only silence afterwards. Peter frowned. “That’s strange. “There’s usually a message from… you. The personal assistant.”
“Me?”
Moving quickly, I went to my office and scanned my tablet. Sure enough, there was a message from Noah telling me to send everyone home.
“It’s no drill. It’s real. He’s worried about the storm. Why didn’t he forward the message to my wrist device?” I muttered. “And who activated the alarm? Why didn’t they tell me Noah had sent us a message?”
“Mr. Stafford has remote access to everything in his company. Wherever he is, he’s probably the one who set off the alarm.”
None of this had been part of my training. “What do I do?” I asked Peter, frantic. “I need your smarts, boy genius.”
He went to Julia’s desk and looked around. “There must be an intercom around here somewhere.”
“An intercom seems a little old-fashioned in a place like this.”
“You’re right, girl genius,” he said with the excitement of someone who had just discovered a new species. Returning to me, he took the tablet out of my hand. “The reason you didn’t get the message on your wrist device is probably because it’s not linked to the app that systemizes the emergency alarm. An oversight, really.”
He swiped the screen a few times. “You’ll probably get a bonus if you bring it to Mr. Stafford’s attention, like the big internet companies who pay people who find flaws in their programming. There.” He handed my tablet back to me.
An app for the emergency alarm dominated the screen. Above a copy of the message Noah had sent was a flashing red button. As a test, I pressed it, sounding the alarm once more. When it died down, I made my announcement, using the microphone of the tablet. “Attention, please,” I said tentatively.
An image of Julia popped up, and I realized that while I spoke, it was her image and voice broadcasting throughout the company.
I continued. “Last night’s tempest is predicted to elevate to one of the worst category storms in recent history. Please safely secure your work and proceed home. Under the advice of our mayor, do not leave your home until it is safe. You will receive a message when Stafford Scientific reopens.”
Finished, I hit the button to repeat the message every ten minutes and set the tablet down. “It sounds pretty serious.”
Peter looked terrified. “Stafford Scientific has never been shut down before. From my understanding, the lights have never turned off, not since Mr. Stafford founded the company. Whatever is about to hit us, it must be big for the doors to close.”
“That explains why the app was hidden away. It’s probably only ever been used as a drill.” I reached into my bag and pulled out my keys. “Do you have a way to contact Julia?”
He nodded. “I can contact anyone.”
I handed Peter a key. “Before the storm gets worse, I want you to go to Milwaukee. You’ll be safer there than you will here. Take Julia and whoever else you can find. You can stay at my grandma’s house. Just don’t destroy anything. There are some precious relics of hers in there. And if you find any winning scratch tickets, they’re mine.” I gave him the address.
“What about you?” he asked, tucking the key into his pocket.
I shoved him toward the elevator. “I might be down later. I have something I want to do first.”
***
Once again, I stood outside Noah’s door, but this time, it was to his penthouse apartment. I’d had packages couriered here but had never been myself. My name was familiar to the concierge, likely because of the packages, so I’d been allowed up the elevator, but the door was still a barrier between me and the man I was certain was behind it. A giant, in his own way.
Evidently, Stafford Scientific had not been responsible for the design of the building. A plain looking buzzer with a security camera was fixed outside his apartment. I pressed the buzzer, but no one answered. I tried knocking, but that didn’t work either.
“Open sesame!” I shouted. Nothing. “Open sesame!” I tried again. Still nothing.
Defeated, I turned to walk away, but my instincts pricked at me. They were on high drive, feeding off the storm.
Maybe the ordinary looking buzzer is a decoy.
On a whim, I scanned my arm beneath the security camera. Like magic, the door slid open.
“Noah!” I called out as I entered. “Noah, it’s Imogen. Are you here?”
The place was massive, like a labyrinth, filled with rooms with unknown purposes. African masks were the sole occupants of one room. Another contained a single piece of art. Like his office and my apartment, the penthouse was contemporary, comprised of as much bare space as it had furnishings.
“Noah!” I called again.
Eventually, I found him. Covered in sweat and moaning in his sleep, he lay on a leather couch. Heavy curtains were tightly shut, denying light into the room, which had no television or technology of any sort that I could see, only a fireplace and photos of his family.
“Noah,” I whispered, kneeling beside him. Despite the fact that he was dressed in slacks and a black dress shirt, he looked ill. Checking for a fever, I placed the back of my hand on his forehead, which woke him.
“Imogen. You shouldn’t be here,” he said. It sounded like it was a struggle for him to speak. “Go home.”
I didn’t budge. “Have you been to the doctor?”
“He visits daily. I’ll be fine. It’s just the flu.”
“A bad flu from the looks of it. Is this why you’ve been out sick?”
He lifted a hand to his head pressing his fingertips into his forehead. “I haven’t been out sick. I’ve been home, but I’ve been working.”
“Yeah, I got your messages. You should have told someone. Believe it or not, the company can run a few days without you.”
He winced, covering his eyes. “I don’t want it to.”
I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter. When’s the last time you’ve eaten?”
“I don’t remember.”
A gust of wind whipped against the building, making the photos on the wall shake. It looked like it pained him to do so, but Noah sat up. “How bad is it out there?”
“Pretty bad. I’m glad your building has underground parking. Otherwise, the daisy stickers on my hatchback would be blown to Australia.”
He fell back down. “I was going to order you to go home, but you can’t go out there. It’s not safe. You’ll have to stay here until the storm passes.”
“That’s what I planned on doing anyway. Even big bad billionaires need taking care of when they’re sick.”
“Wear a mask,” he grunted. “They’re in the bathroom. I make housekeeping wear them when they clean. There should be plenty there. I don’t want you getting sick.”
“If I get sick, I can be your first human trial for the nanotechnology,” I joked and adjusted the pillow under his head. “Unless you have an injection of it here. I saw the miracle rat. That tumor was gone within a matter of days. I bet the robots would fix you right up.”
“If I’d known this would happen, I would have sped up the research.”
I felt his forehead again. He was burning up. “Don’t act so surprised. Everyone gets sick. Even kings. No one is invincible.”
“Mask,” he reminded me.
Black shadowed the bathroom, from the tub made of obsidian marble to his standalone shower, which looked like the steam room of a luxury spa. From a shelf, I pulled down a mask and put it on. As I left, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and imagined the mask was a gag. I was bound, chained to a bed, my body pouring heat, full of desire and longing. Noah circled me, teasing me. I wanted the gag. I wanted the chains. I wanted him.
“Maybe I have a fever too,” I said, checking my own forehead.
On my way back to Noah, I detoured to the kitchen and prepared a bowl of soup, which I brought to him.
“You don’t have a lot of food in your pantry. Should we—”
I fell silent. Noah was sound asleep. Throwing the mask aside, I sat in the chair across from him and took a few sips of the soup, watching him dream. He looked different when he slept. Troubled and unhinged, like he was fighting unknown demons.
Before he woke and tried to tell me what I could or could not do, I set the soup on the fireplace mantel and went outside into the storm. It was midday, but the streets were dark, the clouds above wrathful. I didn’t go far, spotting a deli nearby.
An old Turkish man cleaned the counters as I walked in. “We’re closing, so make it quick,” he warned. “Gotta get out of this madness.”
Ignoring the menu board, I inspected the pots of soup, meats, and breads that were on display. “Will these last the next few days?” I asked.
“If you refrigerate them.”
“Then I’ll take it all. Whatever you have in stock, wrap it up.”
The man seemed happy with my request. “I’ll give you a discount. It was going to go to waste anyway.”
Fighting the wind, I returned to Noah’s apartment and put the food away in the kitchen before going to check on him.
“You are here,” he murmured, his eyes half-closed. “I thought I’d dreamt you. It was a happy dream, until I saw you stole my soup.”
“Noah Stafford, you just cracked a joke,” I piped out, taking the bowl from the mantle. “Do you want me to heat up what’s left?”
“No. I’m not hungry. And the proper way to address me is ‘sir.’”
“You should have put it in the contract.”
“I did.”
I rolled my eyes, but I humored him. “Well, sir, I got you more soup. And sandwiches. They’re in the fridge. We’re all set for the storm.”
Closing his eyes, he smiled. “I like the sound of that. Say it again.”
“Sandwiches?”
“Sir.”
“Not a chance.”
“I don’t like this,” he uttered, half-asleep. “I should be taking care of you. You shouldn’t be taking care of me.”
“If it makes you feel better, I’m being selfish. If you die from the flu, I’ll have no job. Dead men have no need for personal assistants.”
“If you weren’t my personal assistant, would you take me up on my offer? Exclusive friends with exclusive benefits.”
Something twisted low in my belly, but I ignored it. Tried to at least.
“I like the friend part, but the rest isn’t meant to be. I’m not interested in an agreement. I want the real thing. Can you offer me that?”
Those beautiful green eyes met mine, and I thought I saw pain within them. “As beautiful and intoxicating as you are, Imogen, I don’t think I can.”
“Goodnight, Noah,” I said, ending the discussion. “I’ll be right here if you need anything.”
“Goodnight,” he echoed. “And Imogen?”
“Yeah?”
“Put your mask back on, or I’ll do it for you.”
Go ahead. I may like it.
***
I didn’t join Noah in sleep. As he tossed and turned, he grew pale. Worried, I deemed myself his keeper, staying awake to make sure he got through the night as comfortably as possible. When a new day came, though it was hard to tell with the overcast skies, the torrential winds, and the pounding rain, Noah was still lost to his illness. He remained unconscious, his breathing rasped.
In the afternoon, when there was no improvement, I called his doctor, but because of the storm, he couldn’t come to check on Noah. He connected me to the hospital, but they were unwilling to send out a paramedic unless it was a life-threatening emergency, claiming their resources were limited with everyone taking shelter from the disaster that was happening outside. Trying to be helpful, the nurse asked me to take his temperature.
Running into the bathroom, I searched around until I found what I believed was a thermometer. Stafford Scientific had developed it; the company’s name was engraved on the side of the plastic. Guessing how to use it, I rubbed it across Noah’s forehead, and his temperature was digitally displayed.
“102.7”
“That’s high,” the nurse said after I read it to her, “but still not high enough to send an ambulance. I recommend you put him in icy water. If that doesn’t help or if his fever gets worse, call us again.”
Grabbing ice from the kitchen, I filled the tub with it and ran the cold water. That part was easy. Getting Noah into the bath was a lot harder. Whispering in his ear that there was an emergency at the company, I managed to wake him long enough to walk him down to the bathroom.
“Do you have anything of value in your pockets?” I asked him, surrounded by the black marble.
“No,” he replied, teetering, struggling to stay awake.
“Do you trust me?”
“With my life.”
“Get into the tub. It will be painful, it’s pretty cold, but it’s what has to be done. I’ll be in the tub with you.”
“Then what are we waiting for?” he slurred, drunk from his illness.
Careful that neither of us slipped, I helped Noah slide into the tub first. He barely acknowledged the cold. It was probably soothing against his fever. Or he was numb to it. When I got in, the cold bit at me like a million rats nibbling at my skin. Shivering in my white dress, I made sure Noah stayed awake, telling him stories of stealing bingo cards for my grandma at the senior center, upon her insistence.
An hour later, Noah was back on the couch, dressed in black boxers and a T-shirt, which he had managed to put on himself. Sitting next to him, I wore one of his dress shirts, which given his height and broad chest, covered me like a gown. We played chess, his fever way down.
“Please don’t scare me like that ever again,” I said to him as I captured one of his pawns.
“I don’t intend to,” he replied. Regaining his strength, he brushed a piece of my hair away from my face. “Thank you for being here. I don’t know how I can repay you.”
Beneath his touch, I shivered again, but it had nothing to do with the cold from the bath. I was warm. And content. “Like I said, I was being selfish. I need the job.”
“Anything you want,” he said.
“So you’ll promote me sooner than later?” I chanced.
He grinned. “Only if you manage to take my king,” he gambled.
“You’re on,” I said, determined, looking down at the chessboard, only to realize he had me in checkmate.
“Best two out of three?” I suggested.
“I’m afraid not,” he said, relaxing back on the couch. “I don’t want to lose you just yet.”
***
The ambrosia that was coffee woke me. Forgetting where I was, I stretched out in my chair, allowing the waft of freshly brewed grounds to linger in my nose. “That smells delicious.”
“Of course it does. I only buy the best,” Noah boasted.
Instantly awake, I sat up straight. “You should be resting. Let me be on breakfast duty.”
“It’s already done. I’m better now. I just needed to sleep. And so did you. We slept through half the day. It’s well past noon.”
The color back in his face and his bright green eyes aglow once more, he did seem to have his resilience back, but this time he wore it without his trademark austerity. If I hadn’t been here the last few days, I never would have suspected he had been sick. He seemed to be in prime health.
With care, he set my coffee in front of me. The mug was wider than both my hands put together. “Does this mean no more mask?” I asked, though I hadn’t worn it since my first day in the apartment. “I don’t think you’re contagious.”
“If I had any fear you could catch the flu, I wouldn’t have made you the coffee.”
Picking up my mug, I went to the window to assess the weather outside. The rain continued to slash down, and the winds were as ferocious as ever. I hoped it was the peak of the storm. I couldn’t imagine it getting worse than it already was.
“There’s no fear of the skyscraper tumbling down, is there?” I asked, only half-joking.
“This is the safest building in Chicago. It might be the safest building in the whole damn world. Nothing can destroy it.”
“That’s what they said about the Titanic,” I argued, but it did ease me. “We’re probably the only people left in the city.”
“Wouldn’t that be ideal,” he said sincerely.
Overwhelmed, I sealed my eyes with his, the hazel of mine melding with the green in his. I wanted this man. Together, we could create new worlds. It was natural for us to be together, as innate as the stars above, clouded by the storm.
“Tell me more about your childhood,” I asked, quieting my desires, knowing it was not the time to act out on my painful, glorious fantasies.
“No,” he said firmly. “I won’t answer any more questions about my brother.”
“Actually, I wasn’t even thinking about your brother. I want to know what your childhood was like.”
It didn’t make him like the conversation any better. “It was fantastic,” he said with a subtle sarcasm. “I had lots of money. I had lots of toys.”
Maybe too many toys, I thought. “What made you found Stafford Scientific? I know you want to help people, but why a technological company?”
“There was a need,” he said but refused to elaborate. “I’m done talking about me. What about you? Have you ever thought of finding your mother?”
“That would be impossible.”
“Julia found you with a name and hometown.”
I tensed, anxious about the subject of my mother and her abandonment. “Trust me, my mother has gone off the grid. She doesn’t want to be found.”
He pressed. “But don’t you want to know more about your family?”
Nervously, I fumbled with the drapes next to the window. “I know enough from my grandma. If my mother wants me in her life, she can find me.”
What I didn’t tell him was that I was afraid. What if I looked, and there was nothing there? Or worse, what if I found her and she rejected me? Again.
***
Searing hot water trickled down my back as I took a shower. With the black stone of the bathroom surrounding me, it was as if I was immersed far below the surface of the earth. With everything that had happened over the last few weeks, I indulged in the gloriously hot steam, filling my lungs with it as water from the shower streamed down my back, trailing from my spine to my toes, carving its way through my crevasses. Tilting my head back, I massaged my hair beneath the water with an exotic smelling shampoo I’d found in the guestroom, enjoying the way it made my scalp tingle.
I was naked, and Noah was only a few rooms down, repairing a broken floorboard, his energy mostly restored. With the storm holding us prisoner inside his penthouse, he was agitated, ready to work, so he burnt off his frustrations with home improvements. Being the control freak he was, if he could do everything himself, he would. As the scorching water continued to drench me, I pictured Noah holding a hammer with his big, brawny arms, the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled back. He pounded down on a nail, developing a rhythm that made the floorboards shake.
I was torn.
Torn between my memories of Corey and the reality of Noah, my mind had no idea which brother to choose, so I let my body do the talking. With a wetness between my legs that had nothing to do with the shower, but rather the man I shared my confinement with, my body made its decision.
Stepping out of the shower, I covered myself in Noah’s dress shirt once more, bare underneath. I didn’t expect the shirt to stay on long. Quivering with anticipation, my knees grew weak, fully aware that the game was about to change, but I pushed on, leaving the bathroom to join Noah down the hall.
“Imogen, you’re not playing fair,” he rumbled when he saw me, his unassailable eyes scanning my body with a virile appetite that made my stomach and heart flutter in unison. “It’s bad enough that you walk around in my shirt. To do it while you’re soaking wet is beautifully wicked,” he claimed, standing, his need for me showing in the hard bulge in his slacks. “Why don’t you put the dress you wore here back on? Or I can loan you more sweats.”
“That poses a dilemma,” I said, pouting from the doorway and looked up at him through my lashes. “In order to put my dress on, I have to take your shirt off.”
Reading my body language, Noah lunged towards me like a cheetah and locked his arms around my waist, spinning me out into the hall. “That is a problem,” he breathed, his voice husky with arousal as he pinned me to the wall. “What are we going to do about it?”
I was lava in his hands, molten against the fury of his passion. With my back pressed into the wall, I slowly undid the top button of the shirt, exposing a section of my blazing flesh. “I guess we have to take it off.”
“The things I’m going to do to you,” Noah murmured as he twisted a clump of my damp hair between his fingers. “You’re so stunning, Imogen, even more so when you’re like this — completely natural.”
As he spoke, his cock grew even more, pressing against my stomach. I could hardly breathe, completely and utterly wrecked by the man who held me. My body quivered again, the spasms of my need sending blood rocketing down to my core, releasing its sticky wetness, ready for Noah to plunge into me.
Ravenous, he kissed me, his mouth conquering mine before dominating my tongue with a blissful force. As he seized me, his lips bruised mine, but in the most magical of ways. His kiss was a torture I could endure for eternity, tasting of mint and triumph. Weeks of his seduction had led to this. Noah was finally getting what he wanted, and so was I, no longer fighting my attraction. My temptation. My need.
Breaking away from the kiss, Noah brushed his thumb across my lips, which were swollen. “There will be pain, but there will mostly be pleasure,” he said, a warning and a promise that equally made me faint from the thrill. I wanted it all.
Fueled by my desperate, achy need to be with him, I unbuckled his belt and threw it to the floor, one step closer to liberating his cock. With my arms wrapped around his neck, I locked my eyes with his, falling into their bright green spell. “Do what you want, sir. I’m loyal only to you.”
Releasing a deep throaty growl, he snatched me around the waist and picked me up until I straddled him. Gripping the cheeks of my ass, he kissed me again as he ground his hips, thrusting upwards so that the pole in his slacks rubbed against the back of my thigh. With his cock so close to my pussy, my skin lit up like fireworks, and my thighs became slick with my wetness, saturating his slacks.
“Not here.”
With incredible strength, he carried me to his bedroom and lowered me until I stood in front of his triple king-sized mattress, which was covered with a surprisingly plain white duvet, a complement to the warm walnut of his headboard.
“Now, back to the dilemma of this shirt,” he said, unfastening the next button. With the tenderness of cotton, he kissed the flesh left exposed, just above my chest. Another button, another kiss, this time against the side of my breast. And another, and another, each kiss spurring convulsions down my spine, until only one button remained, covering my wet, pulsing core.
On his knees, he left the final button alone to cup my breast, pushing it up into his hand so that my nipple bulged out, making it easy for him to lick. He flicked his tongue around my swollen bud before rolling it around the base of my nipple, prickling my skin until it was euphorically over-sensitive to his touch. I grabbed his hair, which was like silk in my hands, encouraging him to devour me. Boosting my breast up farther, he sucked hard, his lips wet and warm over my bud. Moaning, I arched my back so that he could take more of me into his mouth, which he sucked harder, electrifying my body, making it buzz with ecstasy.
Moving down, he released the last button on the shirt, leaving my front completely uncovered. Standing back, he took me in and whistled. “You have the most gorgeous curves. Let’s not hide them any longer.” Languidly, taking his time to appreciate every inch of my skin, he peeled the shirt back from my shoulders and let it fall from my arms.
“That’s better,” he said.
“Almost. There are a few buttons left,” I said and tore off his shirt, buttons flying in all directions. Moving down, I slipped my hand into his slacks and tenderly cupped his stiff cock, breaking all boundaries between us. It jumped beneath my touch, amplifying in girth and length. Giving Noah a preview of things to come, I closed my fingers around him, sliding my hand down his length. My eyes widened when my fingers wouldn’t meet, and I swallowed, both worried and excited about his size.
Feeling brazen, I pumped him as I looked him in the eye, daring him to break away.
When he did, it was to haul me to his bed. “Wait there,” he commanded.
Laying on the duvet, I listened to him unzip his slacks. Soon, he hovered over me, his cock fully erect. Hormones hammered across my body, pumping me with adrenaline, making my core jet out juices in preparation for Noah’s massive size. Teasing me, he ran his palm down my stomach and over my swollen pussy, playing with my folds with his fingertips, feeling my wetness.
“And I haven’t even made you come yet,” he said, delighted.
Clawing the duvet, my breath ragged from his touch, I bent my knees and spread my thighs, inviting him in. He drove two fingers inside of me. I wanted his cock, but the result was almost as satisfying. I cried out loud and nearly ripped the duvet off the bed as he circled his fingers around my walls, exploring me, pleasuring me. Using my wetness as a lubricant, he thrust his fingers in and out, working me, sending a wave of ecstasy across my hips and breasts, building me up.
Continuing to plunge into me with his fingers, he settled beside me and used his other hand to pull lightly at the buds of my breasts, which were still ripe and now tender from earlier. Licking his thumb, he smoothed it over my nipples, circling it around, creating a current of bliss that connected my nipples to my clit. I flushed, ebbing closer to release.
“Come,” Noah ordered. “I want to watch you come. Set your body free for me.”
To encourage me further, he removed his fingers from inside of me and concentrated on the pink flesh of my outer pussy. Sliding his hand down from my breasts, he pressed gently against my belly button, lifting the skin away from my clit until it was fully exposed. With his touch, it sent me over the edge. A glorious wave of release ripped through me. I was delirious, full of a joy I hadn’t known in a long time.
“I didn’t think you could get any more beautiful, but you just did,” Noah murmured, withdrawing his fingers. “You’re glowing.”
“Because of you,” I said, panting as I ran my hand across the hard muscles of his chest. “It’s time to return the favor.”
I rolled over with the intention of riding Noah like a cowgirl, but he stopped me halfway and gently laid me back down on the mattress.
“Surrender yourself to me. Let me decide what’s best. It’s part of the agreement.”
I’d almost forgotten about the agreement. My desire for Noah had nothing to do with rules or lessons. It was organic, built upon the friendship we had formed. Familiar with his stubbornness, I knew better than to argue. If I continued to sleep with Noah, it would have to be on his terms.
Smiling coyly, I lifted my arms above my head. “As I said, do what you want.”
Nibbling on my ear, he muttered, “There are many things I want and will do to you, Imogen Clare.” Then he reached into the drawer of his side table and unwrapped a condom.
When he was ready, he lifted the bulk of his chiseled body over me. My body swelled again, hungry for him as he lifted my knees higher than before. With his thighs between mine, he stilled, his cock nudging at my entrance.
Looking up into his verdant green eyes, I waited for him, longing for the moment we fully connected.
“Please,” I begged.
A corner of his mouth lifted. “Please what, Imogen?” he asked.
I would have said anything. “Please, sir.”
I cried out as he plunged into me, spearing me with his steel, my body stretching for him. His mouth captured the sound, his tongue invading my mouth as his cock invaded my body.
You feel so good,” he whispered into my ear as his teeth raked down the lobe. Slowly, he pumped his hips, moving leisurely so that every inch of him pulsed within me.
His slow, deliberate rhythm drove me mad with pleasure, leaving me aching for more. I arched my back, wanting him to push deeper, to completely submerge his cock within me, but he continued his sweet torment, gently rolling his hips, teasing me.
“Please,” I begged, my skin burning as another surge of euphoria rose within me. “Please fuck me hard.” I bit my lip. “Sir.”
It was the trigger he needed. He thrust vigorously, his cock shaking my body with its force. I knotted my legs around his back and grabbed his ass, guiding him in, moaning with pleasure every time he hit the end of me. The weight of his body, how it pinned me down, added to my upward climax. I coveted the way his sweat, his scent, mixed with my own.
As he pushed into me, he kissed my neck, lifting my flesh away with gentle bites. I turned my head to the side, giving him access to my pulse, which he ran his tongue over, tasting the salt on my skin. Occasionally, he released my neck to catch my gaze as he fucked me, his eyes blazing with viscous need, making the muscles closest to my core spasm until my pelvis clenched around him.
Groaning with pleasure, his skin glistened with sweat, dripping down the brawn of his shoulders. We breathed hard, panting as our hips ground together.
Moaning, I circled my hips with each of his thrusts, dancing to his rhythm. Hyperaware of the friction of his pulses, my blood ignited, and I climbed faster to the peak. I tightened my legs around his back and grabbed his arms, holding onto his strength as he rocked my body. Annihilating me with kisses, he continued his siege, thrusting in and out, sliding through my wetness.
His tempo increased as he approached his crescendo. Backing up, his ass riding the air, he torpedoed into me, over and over. Locking himself inside my pink flesh, he grunted as he spilled out. Whimpering his name, my body erupted in a golden bliss as I came with him, our limbs tangled together as perspiration sizzled on our skin. He pushed even deeper into me, riding his wave, and I cried out, the intensity of my orgasm matching the storm outside.
Breathless, Noah held onto me, refusing to pull out. Tucking my head beneath his jaw, I found solace having him linger inside of me, taking his weight. By sleeping with him, our agreement had been extended. We would stay faithful to each other, but he would be in command, my superior and my teacher, edifying me on all the pleasures my body could endure.
The following night, when the storm had passed, and the city prepared to deal with its aftermath, I stood on Noah’s balcony while he showered, alone in the black of the night. Without the lights from the theaters and the clubs, the city vacated, Chicago was at its darkest, its truest form. The night had summoned me, and I had obeyed.
“I expect great things from you,” I said, confronting it. “Don’t let me down.”
***
Stafford Scientific didn’t reopen immediately following the storm. While Noah and his executives assessed the building for damage, he ordered the rest of the staff to offer their services at the shelter that housed those left homeless by the wrath of the tempest. Power lines were down, pipes leaked water and waste onto the street, and more than a few cars were overturned.
With Julia and Peter by my side, I served food in the cafeteria of the shelter, doling out mashed potatoes and roast beef to those in line, mostly families who had resided in older buildings unable to withstand the raging winds.
“I can’t believe you were trapped here,” Julia said, expressing her concern as she salted the potatoes. “I mean, you must have been frightened all alone in the apartment.”
“It wasn’t so bad,” I replied, my face red beneath my hair net from the truths I did not tell. “My goodness, it’s warm back here.”
“It’s the ovens. We’re feeding thousands today,” Peter calculated.
“Still, to hear the winds ripping the city apart must have been awful,” Julia said, scooping a spoonful of potatoes onto a plate I passed down to her.
“Why didn’t you join us?” Peter asked. “We kept expecting you to walk in through the door. We were worried. You didn’t answer your calls, and you didn’t send us any messages.”
“You sound like the parents I never had,” I said lightly, teasing him.
“We sound like your friends,” Julia asserted. “We were concerned about you. I just don’t understand why you weren’t able to leave.”
I swallowed hard, though I didn’t hear any suspicion in her tone, just sisterly love. “I told you. I wasn’t sure my car would make it all the way to Milwaukee. I didn’t want it to break down in the middle of the storm, so I decided it best just to quarantine myself indoors. Really, I was fine. See.” I twirled around. “I’m alive.”
“I’m sure Mr. Stafford would have allowed you to take one of the company cars,” Peter speculated. “He was stuck in the city too.”
“How do you know?” I asked, trying to sound casual.
“He told me when I picked up his dry cleaning this morning.”
I swallowed again. “Well, whatever he was up to is his own business.” Quickly, I changed the subject. “So what did you guys get up to at my grandma’s house? If you heard an old lady calling out numbers, that was the ghost of Beatrice, a friend of my grams. Ever since she died, the house has smelled of markers and Bingo cards.”
“It was fun,” Julia said. “Kind of like a big sleepover. After Peter found me at my desk, we grabbed as many people as we could, those without families who were free to leave. It was a caravan. All of us camped out in the front room, sharing secrets.” She glanced at Peter and giggled.
“What?” I asked. “Tell me.”
Keeping his trust like the good friend she was, Julia waited for his permission.
“Go on,” he allowed, blushing fire engine red as he used his tongs to set a piece of roast beef on a plate. “I’m sure the world is going to know one day.”
“Peter reads women’s magazines!” Julia exclaimed, tittering. “Doesn’t that make him even more adorable?”
“Stop using that word,” he protested. “I’m not adorable. I’m manly and ferocious, like a bear.”
“A teddy bear!” Julia cried.
We laughed, and Peter shortly joined in, realizing the ridiculousness of his statement. He was a man, but he was no bear. He didn’t need to be. His personality was more than enough.
“What about the magazines do you like?” I asked. “You looking for style advice?”
“I don’t need it,” he claimed, seemingly proud of the baggy cargo shorts and Tokyo T-shirt he wore, a souvenir from a trip we’d heard about many times.
“Is it the Sudoku puzzles in the back?”
He rolled his eyes. “They give me insight on women, okay. How am I supposed to spend my life with one if I have no idea how her mind ticks?”
“So it’s research,” I mused. “How very scientific of you.”
“And smart,” Julia added. “Can you imagine how much better our relationships would be if all men read women’s magazines?”
“It depends on the magazine,” I said. “Some represent us more realistically than others.”
“You know, for a butler and PhD student, you’re kind of lazy, Peter,” Julia teased. “The entire time we were in Milwaukee, you barely washed a dish.”
“I wasn’t lazy,” Peter objected. “It was tactical. Why struggle with the burden of cleaning after every meal? It’s much more efficient to wait for the plates to pile up then use a singular momentum to get the work done. We left the place spic-and-span.”
“If you left it spic-and-span, then it’s cleaner than the last time I saw it.”
“No thanks to Peter and his singular momentum,” Julia quipped. “I’d hate to see what his apartment looks like.”
“It’s a mess,” he proclaimed, smiling mischievously. “Because of the storm, of course.”
“Oh, I’d almost forgotten. There was a letter for you,” Julia informed me. “It looked important so I brought it back with me. It’s on the counter in the kitchen.”
“A few from the senior center have been looking after the house for me. I’m surprised no one told me about it. Who is it from?”
“It didn’t say. There wasn’t a return address, but it was postmarked a couple of weeks ago.” She gave me a knowing look. “From Thailand.”
***
As soon as our shift at the shelter was over, I ran home, declining Julia’s invite to join her department at a swanky restaurant they’d booked.
Scrambling through the letters on the counter, I snatched up the one from Thailand. Hesitantly, I stared at it, wondering if I should burn it. Then I would never have to know if sleeping with Noah had been a mistake. I didn’t believe it was. Noah made me happy, adding an excitement to my life that was deeply personal and affectionate. I wanted it to continue, even if only for the year.
Though tempted, I couldn’t destroy the letter. I had to face the consequences of my decisions. Shaking, I tore the envelope open and read what was inside.
Instantly, I slid down to the floor with my back pressed against the counters, relieved. It wasn’t from Corey. The hotel I’d stayed in was simply informing me of a promotional offer. Hugging the letter to my heart, I exhaled, my panic subsiding.
The letter hadn’t been from Corey, but it could have been. Before, I would have been disappointed. Now, I didn’t know how I felt.