Page 77 of Lust
“And why would we do that, Ms. Marcolf?” The tall, older gentleman in the perfectly pressed suit asked me. Christopher Jones was the head of Public Relations for CARP. He wasn’t in a particularly good mood, exhausted from the long and drawn-out PR nightmare.
“Presumably because you can’t afford the continuous bad press,” I countered just as sharply.
As promised, Tristan had delivered this meeting by twisting Lilith’s arm. Upon her insistence, the developers agreed to send over two representatives—Taylor Sorenson and Christopher Jones.
My job was to show them the upsides of keeping the place open for one more year and evoke their sympathy with a tour of the place. If they met with the residents and learned about the good this place did for them, hopefully, CARP wouldn’t be so quick to turn their backs.
Lilith, Tristan, Jen, and the two men filled the shelter’s small, shabby conference room. The round wooden desk was only large enough to accommodate four. I sat at the desk with the two gentlemen. There was also a couch off to the side. Upon arrival, Tris had claimed the sofa, so obviously, both women had flocked to sit next to him. I already had to remind Jen twice about her husband.
“Our umbrella corporation has been backing Mr. Marcolf’s campaign.” Taylor Sorenson, the other perfect suit from CARP, nodded his head toward Tristan. “If we are his ally for your brother’s election, surely, you can find it in your heart to pave the way and end this bad PR for us.” Mr. Sorenson (or Taylor as he insisted that I called him upon arrival) was the younger and more pleasant of the two gentlemen, but make no mistake; he was a shark at the end of the day.
“I assure you that my brother’s campaign donations hold no significance in this room.”
“That’s not what I meant, Ms. Marcolf.”
“No matter. I’m happy to pave the way with the press, but only if you agree to keep this building open for one more year,” I responded, feeling exasperated. My presentation about the perks of keeping this shelter open had long commenced, but Q & A was still at large.
“That’s not possible, Sara,” Lilith chimed in. “Surely, we can come up with something else, such as relocation. CARP is willing to pay the moving fees.”
“We already looked into relocation,” Jen protested. “It’s not a viable option in such a short period of time.”
“Moving this many families without disrupting their lives is impossible,” I explained.
Tris held up his hands in surrender to calm the escalating tension in the room. “Let’s all take a breather. The bottom line is that DC law sides with renters. If this shelter decides to hold its own, it’ll cost CARP more in legal fees and bad publicity. In retrospect, one year isn’t so bad. Wouldn’t you much rather try to find a middle ground?”
Once again, I remembered why Tristan made for such a good leader. He knew when to speak to diffuse the situation. Otherwise, silence was his power.
And because he spoke infrequently, everyone listened when he voiced an opinion. The room finally fell quiet to contemplate his words.
I had attained that the only option was to ask for more time. Finding suitable accommodation within the same price point of rent as this building required a lot more time. If they gave us another year, it might be possible.
So far, they had only agreed to one more month. I needed to stay sharp to make them see it my way. However, it was distracting as all hell to watch Jen and Lilith’s subtle moves to gain Tris’ attention, which had been starkly focused on me throughout the meeting. Every so often, his gaze would wander to the curves of my white wrap dress and then to my legs, bared from the thigh down.
It convoluted my already unfocused mind.
Tris’ undivided attention scared me at times. All the same, no longer could I deny that I wanted him, too. If I was being candid, it felt good to be touched without the guilt I otherwise carried. Specifically, it felt good to be touched byhim. What we did together left me transcended every time, and I was always itching to experience it again.
Though Tris hadn’t found me a vetted doctor yet for a pregnancy test, my birth control shot was now fully effective. We had spent the last few days cocooned in my room while he whispered all sorts of degrading, dirty things into my ears—things a well-respecting woman from my society would never ask to hear—and it had ignited a fire inside me, one I had never let another person witness.
The years of perversion I hid under this angelic façade had come out to play. The sexual energy I harbored to keep everyone at bay while dying a little inside each time I denied myself was now bared for him to see.
And God, I wanted more.
We spent hours and hours between the sheets, and I only ripped myself away long enough to create this presentation. Yet still, I wanted more. I wanted the dirty sex, wanted it to feel good, wanted what he gave me. His touch. His hands. His tongue.
I visibly shivered, closing my eyes.
“Are you okay, Angel?” Tris rose from his seat.
“You look a little flushed,” Jen chimed in with a frown.
I cleared my throat and took a small sip of the water, turning my attention back on the men here to meet with us.
Focus, Sara, focus.
“Sara?” Tris sounded concerned, but the way his heated eyes grazed my skin, he knew exactly what I was thinking about. He had become attuned to my needs and knew damn well that my mind was no longer on this meeting.
Fuck. What the hell was wrong with me?
