Page 12 of Wrapped Up in You
“Are you sure?” I ask, nibbling the inside of my cheek while attempting to slither off his lap.
“About letting you go? Absolutely not. About letting you use the facilities first? Yeah, I’m sure.” His lips crash against mine, taking me with a fevered frenzy, fast and hot, tongues tangling, breaths mingling. It’s nothing like the first time we kissed. That one was more of a slow seduction, while this one is scorching hotand more along the lines of neither of us getting enough of the other.
“Crew.” My body catches fire once again.
“Fuck, we’ll pick this up later.” He puts the brakes on our kiss, for good reason, too.
“Yeah.” Trying to catch my breath with his hands on me is nearly impossible.
“A few more hours, then we can take this further, figure out where to go from there. But one thing’s for certain: this isn’t the end. It’s only the beginning.” Wow, I’m gob smacked. Is this the same man from Friday afternoon who flipped the script without a moment’s notice?
I should respond. I need to respond. It’s rude not to, right? These are the questions running through my mind while Crew and I disengage while he keeps his hands on me the entire time. Even when we’re standing, my skirt is still hiked up, the black lace panties on full display. My thighs quiver when I see his eyes zero in on what I’m sure is a lewd scene. His nostrils flare and his cheeks puff with air. My hands are on his shoulders, and I watch as he reluctantly pulls my skirt down. The tips of his fingers drag along the outside of my thighs when what I’d really like is to feel his big, strong hands between them instead.
“Crew.” My tone takes on a breathy quality.
“Go, sweetheart. I’ll be here when you get back.” It’s then I notice that I’ve left a wet stain on his suit pants.
“Um, I think you might need to use the restroom more than me.” I glance down the length of his body. He runs his hand through his hair. The shirt that was once pristine is riddled with wrinkles. Crew’s whole outfit should be changed or at least maybe fixed in a way that doesn’t look like we’ve had sex.
“I’ll be fine for a few minutes. Go take care of yourself, Serena.” There’s a sternness to his voice. He won’t back down,and while I would love to test his patience, the clock on my watch has me scampering away.
“I’ll be quick!” I toss the words over my shoulder. His deep chuckle carries with me. It isn’t until I’m locked inside the small restroom that’s outfitted with a sink, mirror, and a toilet that I suck in a deep breath and hold it for five seconds before I let it out. I repeat the process three times before I take care of business, flush the toilet, wash my hands, and freshen up the rest of myself. My reflection could give me away in a New York minute. One look from Crew’s assistant, or my uncle, and we could be over before we even started.
Which we probably should be, to tell the truth. There’s a lot riding on my shoulders. This job, the start of a new career, digging myself out of credit card debt, and now all I can think about is Crew.
Man, I should have brought my phone in here with me. I could really use Talia and her worldly advice right about now. Though, I already know what she would say, especially after the epic orgasm he delivered.
I’ve stayed in here long enough. It’s time to face the day, even if it means faking it in front of the outside world.
“You can do this, Serena, maybe without tripping or dropping something,” I tell myself in the mirror, take one last breath, and walk through the bathroom door.
“Ah, there she is. Mary, Serena, I’ll be right back. Feel free to go over the schedule and figure out lunch.” Crew is talking to his assistant as I make my way into the room. I’m glad I took an extra minute to smooth out my hair and fix the lipstick that was smeared clear across my cheek.
“Very well. I brought a few menus for you two to choose from.” Mary looks from Crew to me, and he gives me a quick nod before we do a shuffle, me basically moving in front of him while trying to get out of the way. We do a small dance with oneanother until he finally cups my biceps, holding me steady, and walks around me.
Of course, my cheeks flame with what I’m sure is redness, considering Mary got a front row seat to our little tussle. Hopefully, she doesn’t read anything into it except for me being a temporary basket case whenever I’m around Crew.
“I’m not the best at making decisions when it comes to eating, are you?” I ask Mary once the door is closed behind Crew.
“Heaven’s no, but at least there’s a vast array of choices. Maybe pick the top three, and we can shuffle them?” Mary suggests as if she’s been in similar situations, and she probably has, considering the ring she has on her finger. From what she told me earlier this morning when I first arrived at the office, she and her husband have been married for over thirty years, raised two children, and now have six grandchildren.
“That works for me. It probably helps that we’re making a decision together, or I’d suggest the same thing we had last Friday. I’m a food repeater as well as music and clothes. I wear out a good thing until I’m tired of it and move on.” I shrug my shoulders. It’s a problem I’ve always had ever since I was a little girl. My mom and aunt used to tease me until my dad told them they were the pot meeting the kettle.
“Ah, that could be a conundrum. Crew might have a problem with that, since I can’t remember the last time he ate the same meal twice. At home, I can’t confirm that, of course, but at the office, he usually orders something different each time.” Mary gives me a wealth of information about Crew.
“Hmm, well, let’s get to it.” My phone vibrates along the wood surface where I put it when I got here entirely too early. I’d been keyed up last night and well into the morning, tossing and turning. I finally woke up around five o’clock, cleaned up after myself, made a pot of coffee, consumed more than my normal, ate breakfast, got dressed, and headed out the door. “Excuse me,Mary. I’m truly sorry. I usually don’t receive messages back to back.” I skirt around the desk.
“No problem. I’ll suggest the three and then we can go from there. Italian, Chinese, and then there’s my personal favorite, Sunrise Café. It has the best burgers, chicken tenders, and salads in town,” Mary prattles on while I take a look at my phone.
Talia: I’m awake. Text me with updates!
“The café sounds amazing, and everyone can choose what they want. I love Italian food, but heartburn is real, and Chinese has to come with a time where old movies are playing in the background and you’re camped out on the floor in comfy clothes.” I look up from my phone before responding to the message.
Me: I have so much to tell you but not enough time. I’ll text on my lunch break!
There’s another text, this one from the group chat with my mom and aunt, one I’ll respond to later.
Mom & Auntie Val: Stop by on the way home. We’re having dinner and playing cards.
