Page 40 of Strictly Business

She nods her acknowledgement and I step back into the hallway and go to the elevator where Serena is waiting for me along with Roland, one of the executives. We greet each other and wait for the elevator. It comes eventually and we get into the elevator. Serena and I stand side by side and Roland stands in front of us.

“The lobby?” he says, his finger poised over the button.

I nod and Serena says, “yes please”.

Roland hits the button and then he gets his cell phone out and he starts scrolling through it. Serena reaches out and pinches my ass. I gasp and Roland looks around and I hide the gasp with a yawn.

“Late night last night,” I say, ignoring Serena’s quiet giggle from beside me.

Roland nods. “I know that feeling,” he says, and then he goes back to his cell phone, and I look at Serena with mock seriousness.

“Stop it,” I mouth at her with widened eyes.

She smiles and shakes her head and then she runs her hand over my crotch area, teasing my cock. I have to bite back the moan that tries to escape me at her touch. She is looking mighty pleased with herself as she continues to torment me.

“I will get you back,” I mouth.

She doesn’t respond in words; she just blows me a silent kiss.

By the time we reach the lobby, I’m both glad to be out of the awkward situation of hiding my arousal from Roland, and also gutted to not have Serena be touching me anymore. I am definitely going to get her back for that though. I can’t help but laugh though when I address her, shaking my head.

“I can’t believe you did that,” I say as we cross the lobby.

“What?” she asks, her expression the picture of faked innocence once again. She is getting far too good at this.

“Oh, you know what,” I say. I wait until we step into the street, and I look around to make sure no one from the office is around. The coast is clear, and I turn my focus back to Serena. “You should know that you will pay for that little stunt you pulled back there.”

“Oh, really?” Serena says with a grin. “I’ll look forward to that then.”

God, she knows how to turn me on. I want to grab her, slam her against the wall and fuck her against the building right now. I want to devour her. I want to own her. She is mine and she needs to be reminded of that fact as often as possible.

We go to the little deli down the road and get a sandwich each – cheese and ham for me, beef salad for her – and a cold bottle of soda each, and then we sit down at a small table in the back of the place and start working on our sandwiches. We could have gotten the same lunch for free at the office, but we couldn’t have spoken freely, and I enjoy our little lunch dates – they break the day up nicely.

“So, I’m guessing you haven’t been to Italy before then judging by your reaction to the news you would be going,” I say.

Serena shakes her head.

“No. I haven’t been anywhere in Europe. A friend and I went backpacking around Asia for six weeks between high school and college. I was kind of tempted to put college off for a year and go and do Europe too, but I talked to my dad about it, and I ended up going to college instead,” she says.

“He wouldn’t hear of you deferring a year?” I ask.

“Actually, he said he would support me whatever I chose to do, but he pointed out that if I went to college first, I would have my whole life to travel, and if I wanted to do it long term, I would have better job prospects for on the road so I wouldn’t have to work eighteen hours a day just to fund my stay,” she explains.

“Yeah, that does make sense,” I say. “So do you still plan to travel?”

I keep my tone light, but the truth is, I’m suddenly afraid that she will say yes, and then she will get on a plane, and I won’t see her for a year. I know it’s stupid, but I can’t help but think the worst. I’m relieved when she shakes her head.

“Not really. I mean never say never right. But I am more interested in building my career for now. Maybe I’ll retire early and travel the world in my fifties,” she says with a soft laugh.

“That sounds ideal,” I say. “Because by then, you will hopefully have enough money to stay in nice hotels instead of awful hostels.”

“Exactly,” Serena says. “I’m sorry but these people that say staying in hostels is all part of the experience, have never stayed anywhere nice. I don’t think for a second that I can’t experience what a country has to offer and still have a nice room to go back to at the end of the day.”

That sounds promising. At least if we ever go on holiday together, she’s going to let me book a nice hotel and not try to convince me to stay in a hostel or in a mud hut or on a kibbutz or something.

“What about you?” Serena asks. “Did you and my Uncle Craig ever travel?”

“Travel is the wrong word for what me and your Uncle Craig did. We were very much tourists,” I say with a laugh. “We’d go to a holiday resort and not even pretend we cared about seeing the sights. It was basically pool, bar, change, night club, repeat.”

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