Sealing the Deal (2 page)

“Maybe we should just get it out of our systems,” she suggested weakly.

He studied her like he was thinking about it. “I don’t think it’s going to ever be out of our systems. Part of the reason why I asked you here was to talk about this thing between us. And how we are going to work together.”

“Did you know this was me?” she asked. “I mean my resume. You knew this was me from last night?”

“Yes,” he answered succinctly.

“But how?” she wondered.

“You can’t be in this business in this town and not have your ways getting information. I think we would be a very good team. I think for we need to put this ‘thing’ on the back burner for now,
Beautiful
.”

Dionne gasped. “Did you send me that text this morning?”

He didn’t have to say a word. He just beamed. That said it all. He was so pleased with himself. Dionne realized she was zoned, staring at him. He was positively beautiful. His facial features were perfectly formed, perfectly symmetrical. And he had such personality that made every aspect of him that more alluring.

“Are you listening?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Just once?” she begged. She had to have him at least, one more time.

He stepped in real close to her and looked down his nose, his expression curled with amusement. “Just once, huh?”

“It’s just that,” she took a deep breath. “When I get stressed, I get…”

He finished the sentence she couldn’t. “You get horny. Is that what happened the other night?”

Dionne turned her head. A blush burned her from head to toe. She didn't know why she was telling on herself with him. She had the strongest urge to spread herself wide for him, figuratively and literally. Now he touched her for the first time that day. He brushed his knuckles to the sensitive tips of her nipples through her dress while almost hypnotically staring her down. Her whole body quivered at his touch. She ached deep within.

“Well we’ll have to compartmentalize that for now,” he said oh-so-smoothly. “Do you think we can conduct ourselves professionally for a moment? I would like to engage in a real interview and troubleshoot some business scenarios for your ideas,” he stooped to catch her at eye level. He forced her to look him straight in the eye, “I want to know what happened. Why someone with your pedigree is looking for a job. Would that be okay with you?”

Dionne was in a daze. “Yes, that would be fine.”

Stan McDonald was mass of contradiction. He hooked up with her on a one-night stand yet was as tender and loving as life partner. As polite and cordial as he was, he wasn’t inviting her into the main house. He only allowed her as far as the garage. He had a house worth a fortune yet his no-frills office was in his garage with desks that were made out of repurposed doors. He pulled out a folding lawn chair for her to sit.

He proposed some hypotheticals for her to resolve. They seemed oddly easy; no-brainers. Maybe she had been doing what she had been doing for so long; maybe there was a catch. For they were unnervingly easy problems. He didn’t indicate one way or another if he liked her answers. He sat and listened, his head bobbing as she responded. Then he looked up.

“So now about what happened with the last job?” he asked. Something about him – Dionne didn’t want to lie. She told him most of the truth.

“I pitched an idea to the competition because I honestly didn’t believe my own place would listen. They found out and fired me. Not before letting me know that my idea was now their idea.”

“The other place didn’t bite, I take it?” Stan asked.

“No they didn’t. That’s why I went to The Mandarin. To blow off some steam,” she said.

Amusement gathered in the corner of his intensely blue eyes. “I see,” he said, lingering a little. “What does your contract say?”

“They reminded me the contact said that anything I create while under contract with them was theirs,” she answered.

He perked up. “Do you have the contact? Can I see it?”

“I am sure I have it somewhere,” Dionne answered, growing weary of the subject. It was now a done deal.

He raised his brow. “But you did review the contract at your termination, right?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “I screwed up. I took a shot and missed my mark.”

“I want the contract, if I may please. I want my legal team to review it,” he said.

Dionne was getting a little fed up. It may have been too soon to undertake an interview after all. “Who would that be? Your gardener?”

Stan furroughed his brow. “So when did you get fired?”

“This morning as a matter of fact,” she answered.

“And that’s why I am going to overlook the gardener remark,” he smiled but she could see he could be a formidable foe if he wanted. He gently reiterated, “I would like to see the contract please and thank you.”

She started to protest but he cut her off.

“I am not asking,” he said with a very polite but dark look in his eye.

“I didn’t say I was taking the job,” she countered, getting a little haughty herself.

“I haven’t offered you one. I just want to see if I can, so I would like to see your contract,” he said.

“You want to see if I made a mistake this morning,” she argued.

“No, Ms. Ellis. I want to see if they did,” he said. His mouth spread in a wicked smile.

Dionne did as she was told. She agreed to forward the contract that she had with Category. It was just that she kept putting off digging it up and actually sending it. Stan told her to dress. He was taking her to dinner in honor of her joining his team. He sent a car to pick her up.

“I am fine with driving,” she said. She liked to be in control and to be able to leave when she wanted.

“Indulge me,” he said and sensing her apprehension he added, “trust me.”

For the occasion she wore a bare-shouldered shell dress with an empire neckline. The fabric was a lavender silk print with a luminescent quality. It looked like it was designed for her. Dionne loved the way she looked in it. It was both tasteful and flattering. She wore her hair straight and down. It fell to just past her shoulders in long layers. The only jewelry she wore was a costume bracelet of emerald cut crystals and matching earrings. She opted for neutral pumps rather than sandals. Dionne admired herself in the mirror. She looked good.

The limo driver was right on time. She would rather be driving herself but enjoy it as she ducked into the car. The ride was as smooth as a magic carpet, floating beneath the palm-mottled moonlight. Stan wanted a late dinner – for no other reason than he was working and was in a groove. He didn’t want to break his stride.

The location of dinner was a secret surprise. When Dionne recognized that the car was heading for Stan’s house, she just assumed they were picking him up. In fact, they were dropping her off. Dinner was at his place and he was the chef, although he had staff to wait on them. He greeted her in a grey silk suit with a raspberry tie. His suit matched the color scheme of her dress exactly. It was as though they were on the same wavelength and they dressed in complimentary attire. They took a moment to check each other out.

“It’s a little weird,” he said.

“It is,” she agreed.

He led her out to the terrace, which overlooked one of the deep slopes into the canyon. At one point the drop was almost straight up and down. It was a breathtaking view and Dionne’s breath hitched, it was that spectacular. The periphery of the simple slate inlaid patio was draped with strands of white lights. A small wrought iron table was set for cocktails. Upholstered outdoor furniture off to the side. There was an overstuffed chair and wide chaise with a plump mattress. She was so attracted to Stan that she didn’t feel safe being anywhere near anything resembling a bed. Regret sank within her. She could not work with this man. She had an overwhelming urge to sleep with him. She had to tell him. But he sensed it.

“What?” he asked bluntly.

“I don’t think I can work with you,” she admitted.

“Because of the heat?” he replied frankly.

“Yes,” she said.

“Do you want me to dismiss everyone and fuck you?” he asked.

She was an unconventional girl for sure and that question probably should have offended her, but it in fact, turned her on. So much so that all she could do was stand and stutter. He dropped his height to look at her because she was frozen with the stunning effect he had on her.

“Is that a yes?” he smiled slightly.

Was it a trick question? She couldn’t work with a guy she slept with and vice versa. The needs seemed to be equal at this point and she wasn’t sure which way to go.

“I wish I knew what to do,” Dionne muttered.

“Would you like someone to tell you?” he asked pointedly.

Dionne blinked. What was he talking about? Game playing? Role playing? A little domination and submission?

“I am not going to trick you,” he remarked intuitively. “If you want something, be honest. That’s a ground rule. I wouldn’t lure you into bed and then spank you for being there.”

His language was getting dicier and dicier. Dionne loved to play, but the brief encounters didn’t allow for much of that. That required knowing each other for more than an hour or so. It was the nuance of being able to make it seem real that made role-playing so hot.

He had her stuttering, she was so aroused. “Do you?”

“But we can’t work together and have sex. We wouldn’t get much work done and…” Dionne went to the wrought iron table and fished a cigarette out of her handbag. She stuck it in her puckered lips and lit it.

He casually but firmly took the cigarette away from her. “No,” he said.

“I am nervous,” she said. “Or confused. Work…”

“We haven’t sign anything solidifying our partnership. I promise you I did not invite you here to seduce you but maybe…”

“One more for the road?”

He lifted the wine to her lips and she sipped. Once she swallowed he took her jaw into his fingers and kissed her.

“You need a job and I need you. I can’t do this alone. I have to have your talent. I have a project I want to launch. I’ve already pitched it to three different companies. They all know that I’ve pitched this simultaneously and it’s a first come first serve proposition. I have the connections and the money and I know I’ll get a hit, but I would prefer to have a partner.”

“Then why did you go through a head hunter?” she asked.

He smiled. “I found you didn’t I? You’re going to tell me you’re not partner material? You must have thought so or you wouldn’t have tried to hire yourself out the way you did.”

He was right about that. Her biggest frustration was that she knew she could make a much bigger contribution than she was making but she was getting shut out at every turn.

“Did you ever wonder why it was that they didn’t let you play in any reindeer games?” he asked wryly.

“Because it was their baby, not mine,” said Dionne.

“No. Because they’re afraid of you,” he said plainly.

“How do you know that?” she demanded. “I mean you could be right, but what exactly do you know that makes you think that?”

“I see your resume. I’ve made a few phone calls and I saw the presentation slides,” he answered.

He had reviewed her pitch to Lionel’s company. “What if I am a one-hit wonder?” she said dejectedly.

“Maybe you’re right,” he said. “I can’t have a partner who feels sorry for herself.”

“Look I hear you. But this is all happening so fast. I think I am entitled to some time to process. They took my idea,” she choked up.

“Maybe not,” he said reassuringly. “I’m working on it.”

They were now chest to chest. His arms paralleled hers down by their sides, and he laced his fingers with hers. Then in one slow move he pinned her hands slightly behind her forcing himself much closer. Their faces were but a breath apart. It was a tease. A calm before the storm. She revved. A thrill rose from deep within her and impassioned her. He took her mouth with the move of a hunter feasting on his trophy. His tongue swept the inside her mouth like it was claiming its kingdom. He ravished her, tongues twisting, turning, tasting.

Dionne rarely if ever kissed during hookups so it had been quite a long time since she had been kissed. It was a novel, tantalizing experience. She explored him with sweeps. The soft yet firm character of him – so wet and hot, was pure erotica. It was as if he were penetrating her between her legs, licking the malleable spongy walls of her so so wet channel. She drew him in, touching as much of him as possible, and answering her drive to meld with him as intimately as possible. He was most definitely feeding her.

She reached down and placed her hand on his erection pressing her abdomen through the fabric of his pants. She shivered and was glad for the huge length that was going to be hers. She was so conflicted between drawing out the experience that would surely culminate in such richness, and getting right down to it. She wanted him inside of her like crazy.

But Stan made the call. “I made you dinner,” he said in words barely above a whisper. “And I want to see you eat it. Our passion isn’t going anywhere. Let’s experience the evening.”

“And you can’t be coy with me,” he said. “I will be straight with you and you with me. If you have to tell me you have to take a moment then say so. Can you do that?”

“Yes,” she said finding new strength. It was like she hit a vein of courage and she was renewed. She connected with that part of herself that confidently allowed her to go up to strangers and seduce them with a look. In a trance, Dionne allowed herself to be guided by him to the table. Dinner was light but they ate it very slowly, savoring every taste.

The waiter poured wine. Soft night breeze blew past her. It seemed to scatter the lights twinkling off in the distance. It was a magical scene. Dionne was hesitant about the alcohol. She sipped it just for the taste. The waiter set the table with a beautiful little dish of avocado sushi – a piece of which Stan took into his fingers, dipped into a dark watery sauce and held it up to her mouth. It was so delicious. In another dish were slices of rare beef. He speared a bite-sized piece and immersed it in the same dark sauce. She tasted sweetness and sharp saltiness. The beef itself melted on her tongue. The chemistry between them, the visual pleasure of the outdoor scene and the food itself, combined to create the most sensual experience of her life.

She sipped the sharp chardonnay, just enough to clear her palate. She gulped ice water from a large globed glass. It was divine. Something about drinking ice water from a big crystal glass made the experience the more satisfying.

Stan played music streamed from his phone to wireless speakers situated for optimum sound. There was something magical about sending the music into the bowl of the canyon. He offered Dionne his hand. They stood and embraced, swaying to the music in a movement that mimicked a dance. She simmered in the passion that brewed between them as all of the front of their bodies touched. The more they touched the more they pressed. She was practically smearing her breasts into his powerful chest. She was soft and feminine as he was masculine and hard.

The air was ultra-soft and comfortable and the slight breeze blew back her powder-soft perfume. It smelled of flowers.

“Nice,” he remarked gently in her ear.

They were almost mournful in their effect on each other, like they were in love. Like they were suffering. Stan drew back and had the most pained look on his face. Dionne could feel herself looking the same as they came together for another kiss. This time there was no other task to endure before they could get to each other. This time their kissing would lead to something.

“You guys are good to go. Thanks,” he said into his phone.

Dionne figured, he was dismissing the staff. He regarded her again. He had the wickedest glint in his eye that almost gave her the willies. His kissing was predacious now. He danced her back until she stepped on grass, almost to the edge of the canyon. Now she was frightened. She was in his hands and she had to trust him.

He deftly peeled her zipper down her back as her dress split off her body like she was shedding a shell. The cool night air bathed her skin. Her modesty was protected by delicate apparel. The lace of her push up bra and thong was so shear there was hardly any reason to have them on, except for that they gave Dionne such pleasure to wear. She loved her body and she liked looking at herself in them as much as she hoped he might. She took very good care of herself and it made her enjoy herself all the more.

“Pretty, pretty,” he said. Something about the way he said it, warmed her thoroughly. Her breathing rose. She was so eager.

With a strategic sweep she was off of her feet. But he had her, and she was set on her bottom. The grass was soft and cool beneath her skin. His shirt was open. His magnificent chest was bare against her. He plucked the snap behind her back and unhitched her bra. Her breasts plodded out of their underwire cage and where free. They pressed against the hardness of his pecs. It felt so good to be skin to skin.

Instinctively, Dionne hitched her knee up. Stan was situated between her legs. She could feel the head of his hard cock nudge her, though they didn’t join just yet. She worked her hips around to see if she could catch him and make it so irresistible that he had to be inside her.

The sky was so expansive, so vast, it seemed like they were floating up into it. She knew that she was in a good distance from the edge, but it felt like she was right on it, like they were being suspended up into the sky. Like if he wasn’t careful, they would go over. The sensation forced Dionne to be ultra-conscious and so present. Whereas any other time she might let herself be carried away on the elixir of arousal.

Stan was so endowed and the ground so firm that their bodies fit together deliciously tight. Dionne was so worked up that in a matter of thrusts, she knew she was going to come. Her senses heightened, her very center tightened and electrified to an almost ticklish degree. She jutted her pelvis upward to counter his pumps and did herself in. She cascaded into a blissful abyss of ecstasy, involuntarily spasming around him as he drove deeply into her. She pressed her shoulders back into the earth as she arched upward to enjoy the waves of pure orgasmic sugar. It pulsed through her, bathed every cell of her with such joy. It was so good. It was so satisfying. It was delicious.

Stan planted his fingers in the grass on either side of her shoulders and pushed up, driving into her more fiercely. He was praying to the gods as he was obviously climbing to the heights of his own pleasure. Dionne drew her knees back to her chest to offer more of herself to him. He was so vulnerable as he sent his cries out over into the canyon. It was deeply satisfying for her to watch him come and so hard too.