Not Just A One Night Stand (6 page)

“Hey Taylor! Girl I thought I was going to have to send a search party to look for you.”

“Hey Kay-Kay.”

“I haven’t spoken to you in a week and that’s all I get? A ha-ayy Kay-Kay? That’s wrong on like thirty five levels.”

“Sorry.”

“Damn, you ain’t never sounded like that honey. What’s wrong? Is the job not working out? You know you are always welcome to my house and nearly anything in it.”

“Yeah right. What I can’t get from your house? Your Disney glasses?”

“Heck yeah, can’t nobody drink from my Mickey and Minnie glasses. You know I’m saving them for my wedding day.”  Kayla sounded so serious that Taylor couldn’t help herself as she burst into laughter. Kayla wasn’t far behind and Taylor imagined that her friend had to clamp her hand over her mouth to keep from chuckling before and after the delivery. “But all jokes aside, what’s wrong?”

Taylor sighed. This was going to be a tough one to own up to. “You know the guy?”

Kayla took a deep breath. “You mean… the one nighter?”

“Yeah.” Taylor didn’t say anything more, she didn’t have to.

“Don’t tell me you saw him again?” Kayla had hit it in one.

“Something like that.” She was ashamed, and it would only take a split second more for Kayla to figure it out.

“You dirty low down heffa! Don’t tell me you fucked him again?” Taylor could practically hear the wheels turning over and over again in her friend’s brain. “Actually, don’t even waste your breath on the lie.”

She groaned. “I won’t. Yes we did it. Again.”

Kayla ignored the huff and jumped right in. “M-mm-mm, I knew it! You gave him your digits didn’t you? Or did you dig out his?”

“Not quite.”

“So what you’re trying to not say is what exactly? Oh-hhh… Did you bump into him while you were out and about?” Damn, her friend could read her like a book.

“Something like that.”

“Dammit! First off, Tay? You called me. So I think you could do a bit better than,” she dropped her voice a full octave, “something like that. If I hear that one more time… I’ll do something terrible. I just don’t know what it is yet. And you know I like revenge served cold. Girl, don’t play me.”

Taylor smiled, that was exactly what she needed.

“Okay, here’s the skinny…”

Taylor spilled like a jug of overturned milk. Everything since she had gone to lunch the day before bubbled from her lips helplessly and she told her best friend all. Kayla didn’t, to her credit, say a word. Not until Taylor was finished that is, but that was more than she thought her chum capable of.

Kayla whistled. “Wow. Damn girl, you sure know how to pick ‘em.”

“Apparently so.”

“The guy, Chandler is your new CEO? That is classic…” Kayla made a lengthy exhale that Taylor easily heard through the phone lines. “So what do you want?”

“Kay, I don’t know. I want him, but I hate him for that. It would be so much easier if we were just two ships passing in the night.”

“Really? You’re going with that one? Honey, consider yourself lucky to meet a man that makes your heart beat faster. But grateful that said man has skills in bed. And lastly, thank the heavens that he wants you too. I doubt a man less than interested would take the time to track you down to your front door.” Taylor was looking at the very spot that her back had sweat-shined beside the entry. So Kayla’s words only served to make her think about the weight of her own cunt. Along with the way Chandler eased the ache like no man before could have.

“Yeah, I’m going with that, Kay. I like him more than I want him, even that first night. That’s why he never got the digits. Heck, he never even knew my name. He probably does that all of the time anyway.”

“Does what? Fuck a woman without knowing her name?”

Exact-a-mundo. “Uh huh. That.”

“Well, as for fucking everything with a goodie box? I don’t know him, so I can’t say what he does. Or doesn’t do. But if a man was less than concerned about the sight of your front or backside when he was done, then he wouldn’t have followed your itinerary for today. He would have let you ignore him, as he likely would have been doing the same. He would have found ways to stay as far from you as possible and he damn sure wouldn’t have taken you out to lunch.”

“Kayla, you are the worst.”

“Hell.” Her best friend chuckled. “Yes I am. But that’s only because I will tell you the truth even if you don’t want to hear it.”

“True.”

“I think you should go with the flow and enjoy it while it lasts. It can’t hurt anything right?”

But Kayla was wrong. Taylor already felt like she was a teenager in the midst of the blush of first love. That place where every doodle is of hearts and mixed up last names. And for a grown woman, that was a dangerous place to be. Young girls could deal with heart break, it was one of the unwritten perks of youth. For the grown and sexy? It was a bad look and too many movies were based off the concept of falling for the wrong person and unreciprocated emotions.

And she was so not trying to play a remake of Glenn Close and Michael Douglass. It was not going to happen, not on her watch.

The next few days were uneventful, Taylor spent morning, evening and night working in an attempt to catch up from her two afternoons of hooky. But no matter how many emails she read, two more took its place, until the backlog sprang around her in a web of grey hairs in electronic format.

She was surprised as she hadn’t seen or heard from Chandler in all of that time. She was grateful for the reprieve to gather up the wildflowers of feeling and stuff the excess behind her usual polite societal walls. But in the same vein, she missed him. That in itself made little sense. Taylor should be nothing more than appreciative of the break from Chandler.

But she wasn’t.

Chandler knew that Taylor expected him to pop up, like an unwelcome weed in the garden. Or a pimple on prom night. But after she had unmanned him in his own car in broad daylight, he knew he needed to come up with a better plan. One that involved teaching her a thing or two.

His week was busier than normal, as he crammed seven days amount of business into just under half that number of days. But the laborious toiling would bear fruit. Of that he was certain.

He let her work uninterrupted until the weekend, and Friday was to be the game changer.

That evening, he made certain Taylor was still going to be in the office late. Chandler knew that he was wrong, but at the last minute he requested an audit of market’s budget from the last six months. That sent his Senior VP’s in a tizzy as the trickle-down effect rained the work onto the Regional Managers heads all the way down to the Area Managers, like Taylor.

She would be in the office half of the night as she had never done the reports before. The other managers knew the ins and outs, but not her. Not yet. Benson was the second to last one to drop his off, and that was at a quarter till six.

Chandler had no immediate need of the data, as they numbers were usually due with the quarterly reporting. But it was always nice to keep the complacent on their toes. He uploaded each of the audits into his spreadsheets and saved the files before he locked the office door and walked the hall way.

The area that Taylor worked in was not quite an office, but more than a cubicle. There was ample space, but the Area Mangers shared a room with three others. They could work from numerous places, the office, home, stores in their territory, or on the road, so usually most managers barely saw their office mates at the same time. He had considered that when he had the plans drafted for the building in the first place.

There were four separate desks and separate office supplies, and each person had their own quadrant within the four walls.

Taylor sat at her desk and he watched as she rolled her shoulders, the chestnut brown skin seemed lustrous despite the glare of standard florescent lighting above her. She had a pencil behind one ear and a large calculator that she double checked her figures with.

He actually appreciated her meticulous handling of the numbers. None of the other managers bothered to do so, and although the programs his company used were very good ones, nothing was fool proof. Even he checked his reports with his own math to ensure that every numeral on every document was correct. The last thing any company needed was slip shod accounting in the electronic age.

She never even noticed he was there, and he didn’t have the heart to bother her just yet. Let her finish what she started as he could wait a little while longer. He had planned to sweep her away this weekend and show her what they could be like together. The plan didn’t include sex, just good ole fun and laughter.

But the more he watched her, saw the professional woman at the forefront, the more he wanted to muss the perfection of her veneer up.

He looked away from the woman to the room around her, noted where she had placed her stamp on the small corner of her space. Her jacket was carelessly tossed onto her filing cabinet and he saw the stacked heel of her shoes peek from beneath her chair. She didn’t take much longer though and he saw the victorious change within her posture once the report finally balanced.

“Good job.” He said. She jumped up, shrieked loudly and the combination that was nearly hilarious. Chandler didn’t feel guilty for frightening her. Not one bit. 

Her eyes narrowed and he knew she could see his amusement, not that he tried very hard to hide it. The pencil behind her ear fell out and was trapped drunkenly in the length of her hair, right below her nape. He smiled at the askew sharpened wood as it poked comically over her shoulder as if she used the inanimate object to stare at him warily.

She took a deep breath as though she needed to calm her racing heart. “Hi. I just finished the report.”

“Really?” He asked rhetorically.

“You scared me.”

“I bet I did.”

Taylor stood and slipped on her jacket in one fluid movement as if the fabric were nothing more than a cape she swirled onto her shoulders before she did witchy magic on the unwary. Her height changed on the left side, listing her upwards, and then the right side balanced to the same degree as she stepped back into her shoes.

The addition of the garments seemed to change her from vulnerable to armored in a split second.

She sauntered in his direction and held her hand out once she was mere feet from him. He took the fingers she offered him and felt her pass a flash drive, warm from her touch and the kiss of the computer that housed the portable memory card just moments ago.

“Excuse me.” She tried to pass him by, but he stood in front of the door.

“Not so fast.”

She looked at him, her gaze was dead on. He found it hard to not touch her, but he refrained and let his eyes linger over her form as if they could be his fingers. Her expression never changed from the business woman that meant business, but she panted slightly and her lips parted enough that he could see the pink press of damp tongue to her teeth.

“What now? You have another report that needs to be in by sundown?”

“Follow me.”

He clasped her hand, the same one that she used to pawn the flash drive into his possession a moment before.

“Why?” She tugged her hand as though to reclaim the digits back, but he only tightened his grip.

“Because, I plan to rip your panties off. And I could care less if there is a door that shuts or not. But you just might.” She gasped and pulled even more frantically at his clenched fingers.

“No, Chandler. Not here. Someone could—”

“What? Walk in? Not likely, it’s Friday night, everyone else has something better to do than work. Take off the jacket.”

She looked at him and bit her lip. When she let the reddened flesh free from her teeth, Taylor tugged the jacket back off and he did the same. He loosened his neck tie and unzipped his pants.

The sound of the zipper snapped her back to reality, as he watched her shake her head. “This is crazy, Chandler.”

“Yes, I agree. But I do know that I have to take the edge off or you won’t walk straight next week.” She shuddered and took a step back.

But it was too late for that. She was going to get it.

He stepped forward and she continued to backpedal until she almost fell over her desk. Chandler grabbed her flailing hands and pulled her into him, forced her frame steady again. He spun her to face the desk and pushed her down onto the paper laden surface.

His fingers trailed over the hem of her knee length skirt, the herringbone pattern hitched to her upper thighs. Chandler cupped his palm over her cunt, the heat and moisture combined to form a fragrant brew that only tantalized him even more.

Chandler bent over her back and cocked his mouth to her ear.

“If you don’t want this, tell me.”

She remained mute and he clenched his fingers tighter over her sodden panties.

“Say it.”

She bowed her head in submission but kept her silence.

Chandler arched away and removed his hands from between her thighs, just before he smoothed the expanse of her skirt down.

Before he could step away fully, her hands went back and grabbed at him greedily. Her fingers tightened and she sighed.

“I want it Chandler. You know I do.” Her voice was small and he felt the waves of shame roll over her flesh.  

But he wasn’t satisfied with a cowering admission of desire. He leaned over her again and cupped her cunt, fisted his hands into the ropes of hair.

He tightened the hands and pulled her head back, forced a tortured arch out of her neck.

“Say it then.”

“I want you!” The tone of her voice was guttural, most likely due the kink in her neck.

This time he felt better as he could see her face when she spoke.

“Good.”

His hand smoothed over the lace crotch of her underwear and cruelly ripped the sparse fabric with a single tug on the flimsy tatting. All she was left with was a band over her hips and as he spread her thighs even that was reduced to a mere rope of black elastic that rolled up her hips.  

He didn’t bother to undress either one of them any farther than they already were. To his unending gratitude he had just enough of their bodies exposed to get the job done. Chandler tugged at her clit once then pulled his hand free so he could roll a condom on top his cock. With the necessary precaution in place, there was no more reason to wait.