Lust (10 page)

As he sat, I stood, almost at the same time. “Would you
excuse me for just a moment? I need to run to the ladies’ room.

I’m sorry, I’ll be right back. Sorry.” And I ran out, jogging down
the hall, passing the reception desk (all in my Louboutins, by
the way) and into the foyer of the fifty-eighth floor. There was
a general restroom there. I had used it once perhaps in seven
years, but I needed to breathe. I needed to put a little distance
between myself and Mason.

Looking at myself in the restroom mirror, I noticed that
though I was a total mess inside, I actually looked good on the
outside. There wasn’t a hair out of place and not one flaw in
my makeup. My attire was perfectly pressed and fit to my body
with perfection.

“What is wrong with you? Who are you? Where is this insecurity
and anxiety coming from?” I couldn’t help asking myself
questions that I knew I could not answer, not in my mind
and not out loud. The anxiety grew. I felt shaky and uneasy as I
replayed all the events that had happened in the last two days.

It’s him. It has to be him. Every negative turn that has come
about has been because of him or has been brought on by him. That’s
why I’m so anxious, I’m suppressing my anger toward him, and my
body is reacting. God, I cant keep this up. If I don’t learn to work
with him without making myself sick, I’m going to have to find a
new job. OK, well, some insight finally. It’s anger and not sexual
tension.

I tried so hard to convince myself internally about my physical
and emotional reactions to this man who I barely knew.

And then there was a scent. But it wasn’t a scent I smelled; it
was a memory. I was recalling a soft, calming, attractive scent,
perhaps a perfume I had worn? No. Perhaps it was a scent of
Samantha’s? No.

“What the hell?”

I had to run into one of the stalls. Frantically unbuttoning,
unzipping, and pulling down my slacks, I grabbed a few
rolled pieces of toilet paper with one hand, and with the other,
I pulled down my thong. Perplexed, I just stood there. I could
have sworn my panties were wet; I thought I must not have
calculated my cycle right and had gotten my period. Panties
still at my thighs, I stood and stared confused at the bathroom
stall door, and the scent returned.

What is that? I kept thinking.

I couldn’t wrap my mind around it, this amazing and sexy
scent. I could taste it. My stomach tightened as I closed my eyes and
breathed deep. Chills coursed through my body straight to my core.

My eyes shot open. Something wet was going down the inside
of my thigh. Opening my legs a bit wider and moving the
hand holding the toilet tissue closer to my leg, I bent halfway
at the waist and just peered at the skin of my inner thigh. Not
moving my body, I was utterly confused, completely perplexed.

Why the hell am I wet?

Wiping my thigh and discarding the tissue, I unrolled
some more and now wiped the inside of my sex, where the wetness
had obviously come from.

Oh my God. I’m really wet. What the hell? I am so losing my
mind here.

Shaking my head, I finished wiping myself off; I could not
get past this. What was happening to my body? It was like I
wasn’t in control of my own body anymore.

I went over the last ten minutes, trying to figure out what
I could have thought about or done to give me that wetness on
my sex. Twice—in ten minutes!

I was by the vanity, I talked to myself like a nut, and I rationalized
my situation and— Gasping for a breath, my hand flew to
cover my mouth. No way. Come on. The scent, the sexy, sweet scent.

It was…the Burberry?

It couldn’t have anything to do with him, I tried to convince
myself.

I have always loved the scent, even prior to yesterday. My
physical reaction to the scent must have been from a long-term
memory that I just couldn’t recall.

But I was thinking about him, the Burberry scent on him,
wondering if his cock smelled of Burberry as well or just raw,
hard nerves and flesh!

I need a rest; I just can’t catch a break. OK, staff meeting and then
I bolt. I need to go home and just sleep, rest the mind, body, and soul.

I had a plan.

As I returned to the office, I first faced Samantha sitting
at her desk in front of my office. “Samantha? Are you feeling
OK? You’re pale as a gho—”

“Ms. Chase, would you be so kind as to return to your office
now?”

Interrupted, I turned toward the voice. This boss thing was
getting annoying, I held up my pointer finger, gesturing for
him to give me a minute, and I turned back to Samantha.

Before I spoke though, Samantha said, “We will talk later.

Go. I’m good. Just go. Go.”

I assumed that Samantha’s pale face and reaction was because
she was intimidated by Mr. Mason. Or had he been mean
to her? No, I would not stand for that, no way.

Reentering my office but still facing the door, I closed it.

“Mr. Mason, you didn’t by chance insult—” I turned to him.

Not more than six feet from where I stood, coming out of a
crystal vase on my desk, were three dozen long-stem, bloodred,
blooming roses. No words came to me.

I begged my brain for words, a word, any word. But
nothing.

I am good at a lot of things, but being speechless is not my
forte. My eyes shifted back and forth from the flowers to Mr.

Mason, to the flowers and back to Mr. Mason, and back to the
flowers. My heart pounded, my hands were cold, and yes, my
panties were once again wet.

“Ease up, Ms. Chase. The tension is consuming you from
head to toe. Does the possibility of me giving you flowers
bother you that much that you shut down like this? I mean, I
have seen reactions before, but I’m a little insulted by this one.

Tell me: is it that you are disgusted by me as a person or me as
your boss? It is not like I’ve fucked you—yet.”

I just continued to stare at him. Now I felt ashamed for
unintentionally insulting him. For what? For sending me
flowers?

“Don’t! Don’t answer me. I would rather not know how
you truly feel than to know the truth and have to live with it.

You can breathe now. The flowers are not from me.” He walked
swiftly toward the door and held his hand out to open it.

Before he did, I had to speak up. “Mr.…Mr. Mason, I did
not mean to offend you. I left and came back to the flowers. I’m
rambling. I apologize. I have presented myself as very unprofessional,
and I don’t know why. My apologies, truly.”

Awaiting my fate, I could only concentrate on his eyes. Did
he believe and/or accept my apology, or was he going to help
me update my resume?

“Ms. Chase, I’m more relieved they were not from me then
you are, trust me. They were personally delivered by your recent
ex-boyfriend, who was practically in tears with a story of
love and a broken heart. Had I sent those to you, it would mean
that I was the one whose heart you broke. And for the record, I
don’t know how to lose. I don’t lose. Loss is not in my vocabulary
anymore. But, before I leave you to regroup yourself, which
I must say you have needed to do quite often since I’ve met you,
I will say you truly and utterly intrigue me. And I am neither
shocked by people nor intrigued by them. Yet you…you I can’t
explain. You are intriguing, and I do like a good intrigue. I
have seen a few sides of you that I would love to explore, so
we’ll work on this. We will speak soon, and if you are wondering,
you are more than welcome to leave at any time. Good day,
Ms. Chase.” Smirking, he exited the office.

How did he know? And why couldn’t I speak? I had barely
said two words. Was I completely inside out around him? Did
I wear my emotions so obviously that he just got what I was
thinking, what I felt? God, thank God he hadn’t just given
me flowers. I couldn’t deal with that, could I? Slumping in the
chair, I was emotionless. Not because I wasn’t feeling anything
but because my heart and my mind couldn’t decide on the emotion
to express first.

The door creaked as it slowly came ajar. He’s back? I breathed
deep and sat up straight.

“Eva? Eva, you OK? Oh my God. When I saw Derek walk
in here with all those flowers and Mason was still in your office,
I wanted to curl up and die for you. What happened? What did
he say? Derek was in here with him the whole time you were
gone. I tried to listen, I swear, but it was all whispers. Why
would he even talk to Derek? What was that about? Eva…?”

CHAPTER SIX

Samantha must have realized that I was about to come apart
at the seams, so she stopped speaking and waited. She walked
closer to the chair where I was sitting and knelt beside me.

“Sweetie, you have got to talk to me. You have never in seven
years shut down like this. Please, I’m really starting to worry.”

Sensing the concern in Samantha’s voice, I had to let her in,
with the truth—the whole truth this time. “Samantha, I don’t
know what’s going on with me—”

Samantha cut me off. She was trying to give me assurance
that nothing was wrong with me. “Eva, nothing is wrong with
you. It’s just been two days of hell. You’ve been swarmed with
information and loss of good friends and a huge change. It’s
normal to—”

“Sam, stop. Let me finish. It’s not all that, at least, it’s not
only all of that. It’s…Mason. He’s so under my skin that my
body is wigging out on me, and I can’t control it. Him being
here angers me in the worst way but…Forget it.” I tried to
stand so that I could walk away, but Samantha held me in place.

“Talk…Now!” Samantha demanded.

“Well, first, last night after we said good-bye to Pat, Mason
shook my hand, and I could smell his cologne. And the smell
remained on my hand; and I held my hand to my nose the
whole night without even realizing it. He called me out on
everything that I had done and said that Saturday night; I had
told him that I was going to rip his clothes off and fuck him
right there and then.”

Samantha’s mouth gaped open. She was as shocked as I felt,
but it wasn’t the end of what she was about to hear. “Then he
told me that I had given him the hardest, most exciting erection
he had ever had in his life. I scampered away, but every word he
spoke, every movement—his eyes were all over my body. The
smell of his sweet breath on my skin still resonates with me.”

“I woke up totally soaked. My panties and my thighs were
completely wet. I didn’t think anything of it until just before,
when I ran to the bathroom because he was making me edgy. I
smelled the scent again. Only this time it was a scent I was remembering;
it wasn’t actually in the air. Aaanndd, sure enough,
there I was. I thought I had gotten my period, but no, I was
friggin wet—again! And, I tried to think of anything and everything
that could possibly explain it, but, no, it’s him. He
infuriates me so much that, as fucked up as it sounds, I think
it excites me. I can’t explain it. I feel completely out of control,
and I don’t know how to respond to it.”

Samantha sat with her mouth open, no words to say, eyes
practically bulging out of their sockets. It was uncharacteristic
of Samantha to be speechless, and it worried me.

“Please say something and stop looking at me like that. You
wanted me to open up!” I was really trying to choke back the tears.

“Stop, stop. Sorry…” My dependable Samantha quickly returned.

“As amazed as I am at all of this, my shock is based on
almost solely the fact that like every other human being, you
finally came a little unglued. You are human! This is what us
normal people deal with on a daily basis. Hell, I walk by a shoe
store and imagine myself wearing them but totally naked, and
I orgasm on the spot. Does that mean that I’m in love with the
shoes? Not exactly, but it is exciting. Now, I actually cancelled
the staff meeting you scheduled, and Mason told me to clear
the rest of your schedule. Soooo, get your shit and get out. OK?