Silent No More (7 page)

“Calm down, Sparky,” I say as I’m backing him up to
the couch. “You need to relax and we need to get on with this meeting.”

“Sparky?” he questions. I don’t think he likes
that name, but his expression changes.

“You get worked up and sparks start flying
everywhere,” I tell him as he lowers himself down onto the couch. He grabs the
back of my thighs pulling me onto his lap. My pumps fall off my feet and on to
the floor. My knee length dress rides up just under my sex to accommodate his
lap. I can feel the bulge in his pants touching me through our clothes and my
sex starts to pulsate.

He has one hand wrapped around my waist and the
other moving from the back of my thigh, up under my dress to cup one of my butt
cheeks. He pulls me closer and his face is touching my stomach. The fabric of
my dress is between my skin and his mouth. He inhales deeply. 

“You’re perfect,” he says. He moves his hand from
my waist to the top of my dress where the zipper is. Slowly, he slides it down.
He looks up at me.

“I have to see all of you. I
need
to see all of you.” I don’t stop him. I want this too. I
shouldn’t, but I do. Last night isn't enough. There has been an empty void
since he withdrew from me last night. I should still be mad at him for keeping
a secret from me. It's sort of a big secret, but I can’t think about that now.
I really need him inside of me. If he had told me who he is, I probably would
never have let last night happen and I rather enjoyed it.

He lifts the dress over my head and I rest my
hands on his shoulders. He unhooks my lacy white bra and tosses it to the side.
He’s still fully dressed. His face goes between my breasts, kissing me between
them. I bend, bringing his face to meet mine and kiss him while loosening his
tie.

I’m sitting on his lap in nude stockings and white
lacy panties. He looks down at my sex with hungry eyes. 

“Stand up,” he commands and I do as I’m told. His
eyes hold their position. “Take off your panties, but leave the stockings
on,” he says.

Hooking my thumbs into each side of my panties, I
slowly slide them to the floor. I step out and he pulls me back onto his lap.

I go for his belt, unbuckling and pulling it from
the loops of his pants. I toss it to my right. I reach for the button on his
pants and it pops open. After I pull his zipper down, he lifts so that I can
slide his pants and boxer briefs down to the floor. He kicks them off with his
feet along with his shoes. His cock is rock hard, and the length is touching
the lips of my womanhood. 

She is doing a “hell yeah” dance.

I push his jacket off his arms and remove it from
behind him. He’s watching me and rubbing the sides of both of my thighs. The
contact between us is electric. One second his hands are touching the skin
above my stockings, and the next second, it’s over my stockings and then back
up again. 

I remove his tie and unbutton his shirt, pushing
it off his shoulders and down his back. He reaches for his cock, stroking it as
I lift myself from his lap. He guides himself to my opening. I ease back down
slowly, and he enters me. The emptiness inside me is gone and I’m filled with
him, all of him to the hilt.

“God, you’re fucking hot as hell in there, and so
damn tight. I don’t know how much more of you I can take before I explode,” he
says and I smile. I love that I’m such a turn on for him, because he is very
much a turn on for me.

I start to move up and down on him. He takes one
of my nipples into his mouth, his hands holding on to my back. My head falls
backwards as he bites down hard and I let out a scream of pleasure. He quickly
covers my mouth and I look at him.

“You have to be quiet. The room isn’t soundproof,”
he says as he tries not to laugh. I still and look to the door wondering if
someone’s going to come in. He sees my scared expression.

“No one can come in without me pressing a button,
letting them in.” I turn and look at him confused.

“The door automatically locks when it’s shut. I
have to press a button on my desk to unlock it.”

“We should stop. This isn’t why I’m here,” I say. As
I’m about to get off him, he grabs me and flips me onto my back, all without
removing his cock from inside me. His lips are on mine before I can protest,
and he starts moving in and out, hard, really hard and fast. I moan into his
mouth and I feel myself building inside. I’m going to lose it. I can’t hold it
back.

“I’m going to fucking explode if you don’t come.”
He says and I rupture before the sentence is out. While I’m crashing, he
reaches his climax and spills himself inside me. It’s warm and my cries are
muffled into his mouth.

We still and are both panting. He places his
forehead to mine. 

“Have dinner with me tonight.” It’s not a
question, but I don’t think he means it as a command either. 

“I can’t. I’m going out with my friends tonight,”
I answer, still breathless. He pulls out of me and I sit up looking for my
clothes. “I’ll probably stay at their apartment tonight,” I continue. I’ve
already spent the last two nights in his bed; he’s bound to want me out of
there by now. He zips his pants up.

“Will I see you tomorrow?” he asks as he walks
over to help me zip up my dress. He plants a soft kiss on the back of my shoulder.
It’s warm and sends electric currents through my body. How can he do this to me
with just a simple touch? 

“Yes, I need to get my things from your room,” I
say and I recognize the look in his eyes as pain. I ignore it and slide into my
pumps as he slides my jacket over my arms. He turns and reaches for his jacket,
slipping into it. He looks perfect and not like he just had sex in his office.

He looks strong and in control.

I can only imagine the way I must look, and now I
have to walk back through the front office. Oh God, will they know? Did anyone
hear me? Does he do this often? Am I just another client he fucked? Everything
is going through my mind at once. It’s too much. I need to get on with our
meeting and get out of here.

“Fine. Call or text me when you need to come by.”
He sounds a little upset or mad. I’m not sure which. 

“You didn’t look at my portfolio.” I eye it
sitting on the table while he is walking to his desk.

“I saw enough yesterday. Did you use the photo I
suggested?” I nod to him. I’m not sure what to make of this. 

“Good, then everything is complete! I’ll make sure
Teresa starts on it Monday morning. I’ll have her set up another meeting with
you to talk about logistics in a few weeks.” He is pressing a button on his
desk. I assume it’s the unlock button to the door. 

He presses another button; this time on his phone
and a second later, I hear Rachel’s voice. “Yes, Mr. Lockhart?”

“Please show Miss Taylor out,” he tells her. No
more than five seconds later, Rachel is at the door to collect me. Reality hits
hard. That’s all this is; an office fuck, and now he’s dismissing me.

Unfucking believable.

* * * * *

I don’t go back to work. I need time to think. I
can’t believe I let all this happen. What the hell is wrong with me? Nothing is
wrong with me I tell myself answering my own question. I’m just frustrated.
I’ve gone months without sex. And oh my God, I silently want to squeal; sex with
Nick is incredible, both times were beyond amazing, but I know have to end this
and not see him again. If I keep this up, I’m going to fall in love with the
fuck. I know I can’t handle another heartbreak. 

The strangest thing is, I’m heartbroken over
Allison, not Luke. That’s when it hits me and the light bulb goes on; Luke was
a convenience. I wasn’t in love with him the way I should have been. If it
wasn’t for Allison’s involvement, I may have welcomed the betrayal. It was an
eye-opener, but how the hell could she do this?

Bitch!

Yeah, I’m not close to being over it.

I find myself parked outside Bella’s. When I’m
stressed or having a bad day, I shop. It’s my second favorite shop, and I do
need a dress for tonight. My friends and I are going to Club Blue tonight.

Walking in, I immediately see the dress I’ve been
eyeing for two weeks. I know it fits perfectly. I’ve only tried it on five
times. It’s white silk underneath with a white lace overlay.

It’s sleeveless and shows the right amount of
cleavage. It comes about four inches above my knee. I grab the size eight from
the rack and walk to the back where the lingerie is kept. I grab a white
strapless, silky smooth pushup bra and matching panties from the rack, and walk
up to the checkout counter.

“It’s about time you bought this dress,” the lady
says. I don’t know her, but she has obviously seen me in here a few times. I
smile warmly and hand her my credit card.

I toss the bags into the passenger seat of my car
and slide into my seat. I take a left out of the parking lot and head to The
Cove. I have to get my stuff from Nick’s place before he gets home. I can’t see
him again. If I do, I’m going to want him again. Who am I kidding? I want him
right now, but I can’t keep this up.

I’m sure he won’t be too upset. I know men like
him don’t have trouble finding a woman to fall into their bed.

Getting into the elevator, I retrieve my cell
phone to bring up the text from last night with the code for the penthouse. I
quickly type it in and ride up.

When I enter the living room area, I walk straight
to the bedroom and grab all my belongings. On the way out, I notice the
doorframe has been fixed. I sigh, realizing I’m going to really miss him. Not
just the sex, but him. How can I be so affected by a man I just met two days
ago? I’ve never felt this way for another person before and that’s scary. 

I shake my head
−
like that’s
going to help me forget about him
−
and make my exit. I reach my car and toss
everything in my small trunk. When I settle into the driver’s seat, I take my
phone out of my purse and see I have a missed call from Katelyn. I quickly call
her back.

“Hey, chickie. Are we still on for tonight?” I can
hear the excitement in her voice. Katelyn loves our Friday nights together.
She’s not a big drinker like me, but we both love to dance. 

“Absolutely,” I say with the same excitement in my
voice. “I need a fun night out and the distraction.” I don’t tell her the
distraction I really need is from Nick. I know she is thinking it’s because of
Luke and Allison.

“Shannon, are you really okay? Stacy says you are,
but I need to hear you say it,” she says. Her excitement has turned to
concern. 

“I am,” I reply, because truthfully I am. I do not
miss Luke. Allison is a different story; I’m really hurt and angry by what she
did. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forgive her.

“So can I come over to get dressed at your place
and crash on your couch tonight?”

“Of course you can. You should know by now you
don’t have to ask. Get your ass over here. I need to see you so I can make sure
for myself that you’re really okay.” She has worry in her voice. Katelyn, just
like Stacy, is a really good friend.

“In fact, there is no reason you should be staying
alone in a hotel. Bring all your stuff and you can stay with us,” she adds.

You see, this is why I love my friends. I smile against
the phone. “Okay, be there in thirty. Later,” I tell her. I don’t address the
last part. Staying one night is fine, but I have no intension of staying
longer. I end our call and toss my cell phone on the passenger seat of my car,
and then leave The Cove’s parking lot, heading to Katelyn and Stacy’s
apartment.

Traffic is heavy this afternoon and it takes me
forty minutes to get from The Cove to Katelyn and Stacy’s apartment in
Pasadena. Walking up the stairs, I see Ben locking his door. He and Kyle are
roommates and best friends who live next door to Katelyn and Stacy, which is
how we met them one night. It’s been a blast ever since.

“Hey, sweetness,” Ben greets me halfway up the
steps as he’s jogging down. “Stace told me what happened. I can’t say I’m sorry
you aren’t with that dick face anymore, but I never wanted to see you hurt. How
are you?”

I hug him as I’m laughing. “A better question is
what’s with the douche-stash, Ben?” I can’t stop laughing. It’s awful. He
starts laughing too. 

“What...you don’t like?” he ask though chuckles as
he rubs his mustache with two fingers. He has no sense of style apparently.

“No, I don’t. It looks really bad. I thought all
gay men were born with great fashion sense. What happened to yours?” I ask him,
still laughing uncontrollably.

“Quit with that stereotypical shit. Kyle gets on
my fucking nerves enough with comments like that. Besides, I don’t have time
for fashion, and I like my douche-stash as you call it. I think it looks fab,”
he says in a serious, but playful tone. Ben is gay, but his best friend isn’t
and Kyle loves to rag on Ben.

“I can assure you it does not,” I reply. “Didn’t
mustaches go out in the eighties? The only person I can think of that can rock
a mustache is Burt Reynolds.” Ben rolls his eyes, which is not unlike him, and
then kisses me lightly on the cheek. 

“Look, babe, I gotta run. I’ll see you in a few
hours,” he says and jogs down the rest of the stairs as I walk up the last
three steps.

Before I have time to knock, the door opens and
I’m greeted with a big smile from Stacy and a glass of white wine. I take it
from her hand and say, “I do love you. You know exactly what I need.” I take a
sip and the cool liquid slides down my throat. It’s sweet and fruity; just the
way I like my wine.

“Please tell me you have food in this apartment. I
skipped lunch,” I say to Katelyn who is walking out of the kitchen with her own
glass of wine as Stacy is closing the door behind me. 

“There are a few slices of my leftover pizza from
about an hour go. It’s in the kitchen on the counter. You’re welcome to that,” she
offers, gesturing to the kitchen.

I round the corner and place my glass on the black
granite counter. Picking up a piece of cold peperoni pizza, I tear a piece off
with my teeth; it’s delicious. I look out into the living room from the kitchen
and Stacy is once again giving me a disgusted look.

“You two are gross,” she says as she starts
walking down the hall to her bedroom. I know it’s going to take her a few hours
to get ready. It will probably take her an hour just to decide what to
wear. 

“No, we just know how to eat unlike you who is
skinnier than a rail!” I shout so she can hear me. I mean really, who doesn’t
like pizza I ask myself as I walk out of the kitchen. I take a seat on the
couch next to Katelyn with my glass of wine and slice of pizza in hand. 

“Do you ever wonder how guys don’t split her in two
during sex?” Katelyn asks while changing the channel with the remote. 

I laugh, spitting my wine out. Katelyn has the
sense of humor of most men and can speak their language. “Often,” I say and
take another bite of pizza. 

“So what’s our plan tonight?” Katelyn asks me while
leaning over and taking a bite of my pizza. 

“I was thinking
Charro
for dinner, and we can head to Club Blue about nine-ish,”
I suggest, snatching my pizza out of her mouth and taking the last bite. 

“Works for me,” she says as she settles on a movie
and places the remote down. It’s
Pulp
Fiction
and it’s about midway through. This is a classic and one of my
favorites. John Travolta is
the man
,
and I love his movies, well most of them. I cannot sit through any part of
Michael
. That movie, the little bit of
it I have seen, is awful. 

A few hours later, I’m getting off the couch to go
find Stacy when I hear my iPhone chime; the sound of a text message. I retrieve
my purse pulling out my phone; it’s Nick. I read the time on my phone and its
5:53 pm. Opening the text I read his message.

Why is all of your stuff gone?

Why does he care? He should be glad I’m gone from
his place. I really don’t want to deal with this right now, but I reply to his
text.

I had time
on my hands. 

I decided
to get everything

today
instead of tomorrow

I start to set my phone down when it starts
ringing. It’s him. What the hell is his problem? I figured he would be glad to
get rid of me after his dismissal earlier this morning.

“Hello?” I say into my phone. My anger from this
morning starts to filter in. I can’t believe myself. I think I’m madder at
myself for giving into my desires than I am at him.

“Where the hell are you?” he questions in an angry
tone. 

What the hell?

What business is it of his where I am? The last
time I checked, I don’t belong to him either. What is it with men in the last
few days, thinking women are their property? This woman belongs to no-fucking-body!

“At a friend’s apartment, what’s your problem?” I
snap at him, remembering why I thought he was a jerk two nights ago. He has no
right to demand to know my whereabouts, and why the hell am I telling him
anything? I should hang up on him. 

“You said you were coming tomorrow to pick your
things up. Why the change of plans? And why when I wasn’t here?” His voice
still full of anger; apparently this time, his anger is directed at me.

“What does it matter?” I ask, but I don’t wait for
his answer. “Look Nick...maybe we shouldn’t see each other again. I have to go,
bye,” I say quickly and hang up. I feel depressed and sad when I set my phone
down.

I need another glass of wine. Alcohol seems to be
my fix for everything these days. Walking into the kitchen, I pour another
glass as Stacy walks in. 

“Pour me one too please,” she says as she thrusts
her glass in my face. She is dressed to kill in a red strapless dress that is
skintight and shows way too much leg. She is wearing matching red sandals with
a two-inch heel and a strap around the ankle. 

“You look hot. Whose pants are you trying to get
into tonight?” I ask as I’m walking out of the kitchen and back into the living
room to wake Katelyn up who fell asleep twenty minutes into the movie.

“No one in particular. Now will you two lazy bums
get up and get dressed? I’m going over to Ben and Kyle’s. Come get us when
you’re ready to leave,” she says in a Stacy-like fashion.

Pouncing on Katelyn, I say, “Time to get up. I’m
going to use Stacy’s bathroom. Be ready in forty.”

She grabs a throw pillow and covers her head.
“It’s only 6:05 p.m., can’t I have another hour?” she asks.

“No, you can’t,” I say as I stand and steal the
pillow from her. As I’m walking to Stacy’s room, I toss the pillow into a chair.

“You suck.” I hear her say as I’m walking down the
hall.

* * * * *

An hour later I’m sitting on a bar stool in Ben
and Kyle’s apartment, drinking yet another glass of wine while waiting on
Katelyn to emerge from her apartment. Ben peeks his head out the front door of
his apartment. “She’s finally ready. Let’s roll.” He’s since shaved off the
hideous mustache. Apparently, enough people ragged on him about it at the gym.

We make our way down the stairs and into the
parking lot; we all pile in Ben’s blue Ford Explorer. Ben is in the driver’s
seat. Kyle is seated in the passenger’s seat, and my two girlfriends and I are
in the back. Ben starts the ignition and Katy Perry’s “Hot N Cold” is playing.
Kyle quickly switches the station to 95.5 KLOS. He and I have the same taste in
music, and like me, he hates pop…aka, shitty music. Ben, on the other hand,
doesn’t know what genre he likes. It’s different every damn month. Apparently,
he’s into pop right now.

“Dude, stop touching my fucking radio,” Ben huffs
out, but doesn’t turn it back; Kyle doesn’t respond. He knows if he makes a
smart-ass remark, then Ben will force him to listen to pop music for the
remainder of the drive. He’s not stupid. 

Once we arrive at
Charro’s
Ben whips the SUV into the only free space available.
We’ve made it just in time. Otherwise, we would be finding another restaurant
tonight. There is no way I would be walking the half-mile back to this popular
eatery.

When we get out of the SUV, I smooth out my dress
I borrowed Stacy’s two-inch, white sandals with a strap around the ankle. We
may not share clothes, but we are the same foot size and raid each other’s shoe
closet all the time.

I order a ground-beef taco salad with extra cheese
sauce and a margarita on the rocks. You can’t eat Mexican food without a
margarita, and my friends share the same philosophy as we all order the same
drink.

“So, Shannon,” Kyle starts. “Has the douchebag
tried to get you back yet?” All heads turn in my direction, waiting for a
response.

“Yeah,” I sigh out, wondering if I should divulge
everything that’s happened over the last few days. The last two people I want
to think about, let alone talk about, are Luke and Allison, but then what kind of
friend would I be if I kept them all in the dark? A pretty shitty friend,
probably.

“Well?” Ben draws out in a long breath. I guess
the conversation with myself in my head was a lot longer than I thought.

“Well…um…” I hesitate, searching for the right words
to say. “Luke came by work yesterday, caused a small scene and then showed up
drunk last night at the hotel.” I leave out the even bigger scene he caused
last night. I still can’t wrap my head around what he did. “He caught me before
my meeting this morning and tried to apologize for his behavior,” I finish,
thinking I’ve told them plenty.

“Why did you just hesitate like you didn’t want to
tell us? Did the shithead do anything?” Stacy questions. Yes, he did, but I
don’t want to think about that now, let alone discuss it. Surely, they get
that.

“I wasn’t, and guys, I really just want to forget
about him and never have to deal with him again,” I say, taking a large sip of
Margarita through my straw.

For the next two hours, we eat, drink, laugh and
call each other on our bullshit. It’s already a fun night; I need this, along
with the alcohol to take my mind off Nick. My friends may think I need a
distraction from Luke and former best friend, but the truth is, I need to
forget about the best sex I’ve ever had with a man I don’t even know.

After paying the bill, we all walk to
Club Blue
. It’s 9:45 and the doorman
lets us pass through without waiting in line. It’s great that Stacy’s on TV,
even if it is the news. Her face gets us in most places, and we use it to our
advantage. 

Finding a table that will accommodate the five of
us, I take a seat at the end of the high top table on a barstool for a seat.

Ben and Kyle are walking up with our drinks when
Ben pulls me off the stool and says, “We are going to go dance, sweetness.”

I hear the pop song, “
Mirror
” playing in the background, causing me to think about Nick
momentarily. I think it’s a Justin Timberlake song. It’s not my type of music,
but I know Katelyn and Stacy love it, and I can usually roll with whatever. I
may not fully appreciate JT’s music, but I love his performances on
Saturday Night Live
. The guy is funnier
than shit.

Ben is really into this and he’s moving us all
over the place on the dance floor. We are having a blast. After fifteen minutes,
I squeeze him by the shoulders and shout into his ear over the music saying,
“It’s time for me to sit down. I need more alcohol.”

He stays on the dance floor and I exit, making my
way back to our table. Katelyn is handing me a glass of white wine as I take a
seat. “I got you a refresh,” she says as she takes a sip of her wine. 

“Holy hell! If that isn’t the hottest piece of ass
I’ve ever seen,” she says while looking past me, over my shoulder.

I go to turn around and she grabs my arm to stop
me. “Don’t look. He’s walking this way.”

A few seconds later, warm hands are wrapping
around me, and my friends eyes look like they are about to pop out of their
sockets. It’s him…it’s Nick. I know by the way he feels, the intoxicating smell
of him, the way my body has little tingles of electricity running through it.

“Pardon me, but I need to borrow this one for a
moment,” he says, pulling me off the stool by my waist. My friends do not
protest and are sitting there stunned with their mouths on the table.

He guides me to a corner by the wall, turning me
around to face him. My back is against the cold concrete and he’s towering over
me with his hands placed on the wall above me.