AUTHOR'S NOTES:
I'm back from my hiatus (I'm sorry bout that by the way) THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR ENCOURAGING WORDS. I'm so happy to be back. Anyway, enjoy this chapter and tell me what you think! -j
RACE
The wolf in my heart never let the world see the lamb in my soul – but sometimes you see it in my eyes
Mondays and Tuesdays were hassle, as it always has been. Project managers, investors, potential mergers filled the empty slots of her days.
As boring as it may seem, Claire enjoyed meetings. No, scratched that. She loved meetings. Spending hours discussing jargons and formalities with like-minded individuals appealed to her. But right now, that appeal was distant, hazy like the smog clouding the building.
For starters, she was grateful that nobody was sitting next to them because, well... fuck him! And his hands!
Literally and figuratively speaking.
It started during the Monthly Performances meeting. The dead hour when everyone got dull and sleepy after their lunch break. It made her smile and even squeezed his hand in amusement. But as the afternoon progressed, his fingers hitched up higher, naughtier. By the end of the day, her focus and breathing were requiring much more effort.
Instead of sitting at the centre of the table, Owen positioned his seat beside her. And if anyone thought the arrangement was weird -considering they're just about to rip each other's throat the week before- nobody commented on it. Until she pointed it out.
"The sun was hitting my eyes. What do you want me to do?" He reasoned with pretend annoyance. "I couldn't block out the sun!"
"That's what these thousand-dollar blinds are for Mr. Grady." She countered as she pointed the remote on the curtains.
He shrugged and rolled his chair towards hers... "It was passing through."
"Really?" her face and tone, incredulous.
"Yes. See?" He replied before he squinted his eyes at her in a playful fashion.
The men in the room snickered but soon, dispersed when she narrowed her eyes at them. "If you say so. Let's get started."
It wasn't like that she didn't try pushing him away- which she did. With every fibre in her being, she fought him. But Owen was intuitive. He knew the exact moments when she'd try to pull away. She tried stabbing him with her heel, and pinching his hand away, to no avail. With all hope lost, she hoped- at least- that her glares would stop him.
But by the aloof expression on his face, she was certain he wasn't intimidated. He had his shin resting on his opposite knee, which provided an excuse for his arm to be visibly bent. Everybody perceived that his hand was innocently resting on his chair. When in reality, it was anything but. His hand was drawing all kinds of doodles like an unsupervised toddler with a crayon.
Clearing her throat, she positioned her laptop as a potential shield from the prying eyes. Much to her relief, everybody was attentive to the meeting. Their faces, docile and completely oblivious to the squirming sensation in her abdomen.
Underneath the table, his masculine fingers continued to the underside of her skirt. He slithered upwards, downwards and up again until he reached the source of her longing. She felt hotter, her core anticipating a slight poke, a brush, anything.
Focus, Dearing.
Claire reached for the water bottle in front of her as Owen's fingers reached her thigh once again. Her cheeks reddened. Claire slapped his hand away to gain some sort of control. Claire sighed, thinking that she was successful when he didn't react. She tried rolling her seat away, but he trapped the wheels of her chair, preventing her to do so. He then rested his hand on her inner thigh, his pinky poking her through the cotton. Her breath hitched.
From the corner of her eye, she saw his lips quirk upwards.
Bastard.
"- which reminds me, the groundbreaking ceremony and auction is tomorrow night." Lowery, who was sitting across them, announced.
Her ears perked at that.
"What ceremony?" She queried, concerned of the possible interruption on her schedule.
Claire turned to Lowery who was downing a loose tie. His graphic tee undershirt visible on his office top. She decided, she's gonna lecture him about it tomorrow.
"Is that tomorrow already?" She added as a follow up question.
Owen must have sensed her anxiety because he ran his fingers away from her dainties.
"Yeah. Nobody told you?"
"No. I guess, Emma and I might've overlooked it." She doubted it. There has to be an explanation for her assistant to forget such an important event. "I'll call them later to confirm."
"Well, that explains why they're also asking me if you're coming. But yeah, it is tomorrow…also Ellen Jefferson's expecting you to be there, Owen. She said she's not going to give her speech unless you're there to present her."
"Didn't I say no to that already?" Owen's fingers rested on her knee.
"Yes. But she asked again."
The room full of men whistled.
"After all these months, Jefferson still on your tail, huh, Owen?" Leonard Hendricks, the head of their engineering department, quipped. His comeback earned another round of chuckles and high fives from the guys to which she rolled her eyes. Owen shrugged off their comment as he inched his seat closer to her. His fingers resuming their assault in feather-light touches.
"I am flattered. But Lowery could tell Miss Jefferson that you..." Owen jerked his chin at Hendricks. "could attend in my place."
Claire frowned at his resignation. "As a member of the board and now, one of the founders Mr. Grady, you should attend." She then turned to Hendricks. "I mean no offence, Leo."
Hendricks blinked at her before he found his voice. "Uhm... none taken Miss Dearing."
Owen allowed his finger to press onto her. It was a quick movement, she thought she imagined it. But the look on his face told her otherwise. Claire never sat firmer in her chair.
"You think so?" He grinned.
Claire felt the sweat roll down her neck. Her breasts, touching the wooden table. "I know so." She squeezed her legs together, grateful that the table was high enough to hide his antics. Any thoughts in stopping him gone from her head.
"Yeah?" He urged, and fingered her heated lips through the cotton.
"Yes..." Her voice, strangled.
"Well then, if that's the case…" he turned to the whole group again, "I think Miss Dearing should come too." He removed his damp finger and traced it down her leg. His face was lighting up like a damn Christmas lantern.
"Yeah! I guess, that's why they called me for both your confirmation. A couple of us received invitations too. Should be fun. Free booze." Lowery chattered and the group cheered.
Her body felt like it was catching fire as his adept fingers went back to her swollen folds.
"What do you say Miss Dearing?" Owen asked, his voice deep and low.
She couldn't concentrate on anything but she managed to say, in her tightest voice, "Fine."
Lowery scribbled something on his tablet. "That settles it! Okay. I'll RSVP you both. I can tell Emma and I'll have her resend the invitation to your email."
His finger rubbed between the folds, before trailing them down her knee again. "Yes." she sighed aloud, her eyes widened.
The room was now looking at her with quizzical expressions.
"I-uh." She cleared her throat. "Thanks, Lowery."
Lowery stared at her for a full minute before his eyes diverted to the group. "Uhm. Okay?"
The men, once again, fell into a conversation on the prestigious event. Claire was tuning it out as Owen's pushed a finger through her underwear. She immediately grabbed his hand, making him stop. Her insides sensitive from the fabric and his seduction. Owen finger's thrusted, issuing a purr from her throat.
Claire leaned towards him- a safe distance. Not close enough for anyone to suspect and not far enough for her to mumble the words she never thought she'd say.
"Don't make me come."
He turned his head away to her other ear, his voice dropping to a low grumble. "Well, you shouldn't be so damn tempting all the time." as he did that, he inserted another finger in her.
Claire bit her lip to fight off another involuntary moan. She straightened her laptop screen, so it looked like she was showing him something.
"And this skirt…" Owen dragged his fingers and Claire felt her own legs part in submission. His fingers finally sweeping her underwear and delving in her heat. Claire gripped his knee as he prodded, and teased her. She crossed her legs to lock him as moisture threatened to burst on the leather seat.
With feigned interest, Owen nodded and interacted with the other five people in the room. His fingers not desisting on their expertise. She stifled another moan by biting the cap of her pen. And as his fingers massaged her, Claire came to realise what everybody's been talking about.
The craving for another person.
She thought that after spending the weekend with him, the yearning she felt would lessen... It didn't. Instead, it grew tenfolds. And Claire welcomed it with open arms. This newfound intimacy didn't feel forced. They weren't weird together, like she anticipated it would be.
It felt like organic and very grounding thing that kept growing with each time she spent with him. Even if it was just laughing over his breakfast table. Or finding omission errors in their accounting reports. He was... different. In a damn good way.
Claire always found it difficult to comprehend intimate relationships. She never understood why her sister and her few friends gushed over their lovers. Claire would roll her eyes and think them petty for depending their happiness on someone. But despite her prejudice, (also, it'll get Karen off her back) she tried it. She entered relationships, which after the years proved to be disappointing and unsatisfactory. This drove her to make the premature assumption that men were unnecessary in her life.
Until him.
How deprived she might be on her sexual relationships in the past made up for the fact that Owen Grady was hot for her. As she was to him.
She remembered how they drove in their separate cars back to the city on early Monday morning. Her self control, tested when he kissed her that morning. The wonderful sense of comfort she felt as Owen engulfed her in the tightest of hugs before they drove off was still looping in her senses
The man was sex in human form, there was no denying it. Her lips and legs still burnt, still ached even after days. The love bites on her body were reminders of her pleasure and his unmatchable skill. Claire found herself daydreaming about it for a few minutes on her day.
The need to be near and feel more of him was close to being unbearable. Her tendency to fight her logical instincts, subdued by his charisma and sweet kisses. She wanted to keep him close, in any way possible.
Claire was suddenly washed with enlightenment by what her sister meant. The eldest Dearing's words echoing back to her, "One of these days, Claire dear, you're gonna bite your tongue. I'm so looking forward to that day. And I'd be here, taking pleasure in telling you, I fucking told you so."
"… it's a good idea. Right, Miss Dearing?" Hendricks interrupted.
"Mmm?" she sighed, although it was anything but an answer to her colleague's question. "What? I'm sorry?"
Beside her, Owen chuckled and retreated his wet fingers down her thigh until they were no longer on her body.
"Is it okay to reschedule that product pitch by the Marketing department?"
"Um. Yes?" she faltered. "Yes!"
"Great! All settled then. Meeting adjourned." Owen announced to the group and he stood up, ready to leave.
The room followed him, tucked their seats under the table and collected their effects. The ache on her lower stomach making her stationary on her seat. She could only scowl at him and adjust her skirt on the right place.
In his usual gesture, Owen held the door for them as he thanked everyone for their work today. She followed suit, keeping in mind to keep her legs together and her face grave.
"Miss Dearing." Owen smiled, the hand he used to tease her inside his denim pockets.
"Mr. Grady."
"Thank you for work today." She could tell he was fighting the urge to break character. Claire clicked her tongue and spoke in the most business-tone she had, "I wish I could say the same."
"Is that a challenge, Miss Dearing?" His smile broke as he stepped closer. The faint scent of his clothes and perfume enveloping her.
"Maybe." Claire kept her eyes off him as she surveyed the empty floor.
"What are you doing tonight?"
"Stuff."
"Can I join you?" he demanded, his mischievous eyes on hers.
"No. But I-uh…" And without thinking, she brushed the hand on the bulge forming in his pants. "I'll be thinking of you." She heard his sharp intake of breath before she passed, making sure she added a little sway to her hips as she walked.
The bright yellow outlines of her clock read 12:07 am, marking the end of last week's work. The green tea, which helped her with said tasks, lie cold on the desk in her home office. Claire stretched her arms on the ceiling as she let out a tired yawn. She stood up from her chair and walked to the kitchen, switching on her hallway lights as she did so. She was emptying her cup on the sink when the dull alert tone of her phone broke the stillness of her apartment. Her bewilderment melted into a grin when she saw the message.
You sleeping?
Claire smiled, imagining him lying on his bed with his ratty sweatpants and bare chest.
Yes. She typed.
Not long after she hit send, he called.
"Hello?"
"Liar." Owen greeted. "Why are you still up?"
"Why are you still up?" She replied, balancing the phone on her shoulder while she washed her cup.
"Just got off the phone with your nephew."
"My nephew?" Her eyebrows creased in confusion. "Wait, Zach?"
"Yep."
A sudden dread overcame her, making her drop the cup with a loud clank on the sink. "Why? what happened?"
"Nothing, nothing. It's for their school newspaper." He paused as she heard a hiss of a can being opened in the background. Owen continued, "Her girlfriend's the editor in chief. He's helping her write this article."
Claire sighed in relief but couldn't help but feel obligated to apologize. "I am so sorry he bothered you."
"No, no. It's no trouble."
She heard a fridge door close as she dried her hands on the towel. "I'm surprised Zach even talks to you. He doesn't... well, he's not the talkative type like-"
"-Gray, yeah." he chuckled. "They're good kids."
"They are." She smiled like the proud aunt that she was and leaned over the kitchen counter. "So what was the interview about?"
Claire listened as he recounted the night's events. Zach called him as he pulled up in his building. Zach's questions were all about his take on the economics of modern agriculture. He narrated how Gray stole the phone a couple of times to ask him about the new video game Owen recommended. Claire could tell, that from the tone in his voice, Owen was fond of her nephews.
The conversation continued with Owen recalling his answers to Zach, as she nodded. His answers extensive and profound, it all but surprised her.
"-You said that?" She interrupted him during the pitch on the usage of sustainable green materials.
"Well, yeah."
"I don't get it."
"What?"
"That you let me or Lowery speak on your behalf during conferences and interviews."
"Oh...kay? What's that supposed to mean?"
"I don't usually say this to other people other than me, but Owen." She exasperated, "You're not so bad if you use your brain. You're quite intelligent if you wanna be."
The phone rang from his amused laughter. "How did that admission taste on your lips?"
"Like vinegar." She scoffed. "But no, I'm serious. Next time we're bidding something, I'm gonna let you lead the team."
"I AM leading the team!" He reiterated, his tone teasing, "-if you're not interrupting me every two seconds."
"I'm not."
"Yu-huh!"
"Am not."
"Yes!" he was laughing. "Stop denying it, woman!"
"Fine!" She conceded, laughter also bubbling from her lips as she made her way back to her room. "I won't interrupt you."
"Yeah, for how long? the next 20 minutes?"
It was her turn to smirk. "You know me well enough, Mr. Grady."
"Unfortunately, I do, Miss Dearing." He answered, sarcasm dripping in his voice, making her laugh yet again.
"But You have my word that I won't interrupt for the next 20 minutes in our next bidding."
"Thank you!" He sounded relieved. "I knew getting you in bed would put me in your good books!"
"Oh is that the only reason you're… what do you call it? 'sexing me up'? To get in my good books?"
He laughed- a heartfelt laugh. "You know that it's not."
Claire felt the warm, giddy feeling covered her entire body again like a cloud. Who would've thought that she, self partnered and sufficient woman that she was, could be influenced by such teenage - like frenzy?
"You are an idiot." She replied, shaking her head.
"As you keep reminding me." He paused for a few seconds before, "I hope you don't mind me talking to them."
She frowned, unsure of the change in conversation. "Talking to them? Zach and Gray?"
"Yes."
"Why would I mind?"
"I don't know. I just..." he hesitated. "I don't want you to think I'm rushing you into anything you're not comfortable with."
Claire felt her smile widen, sensing his coyness on the topic she was starting to welcome. "You're not. But thank you for the thought."
A comfortable silence ensued on both ends. Claire, once again was at lost on what to say. Yet, she knew she didn't want to end the conversation.
"I was looking forward to tomorrow." He started, his voice in that mere whisper that made her heart skip.
"I'll cook for you some other time." She heard a slight rustling of sheets before he replied,
"Do we really have to go?"
"Yes. It'll be rude if you, of all people, didn't come."
"But we made plans." He whined but corrected himself. "You made plans. I like your plans."
Claire chuckled, rolling her eyes. "What makes you think I already have a plan?"
"Well, don't you?"
"Touche, Mr. Grady." She clicked her tongue and sat up on her bed. Her back to the tufted headboard. "Consider us going to the gala another date then."
"Fine. Does this mean I get to pick you up?"
"Don't you have that appraisal with Ibris?" She reminded him. This morning, Matthew Carter, the new CFO of Ibris arranged a last minute meeting with him and the new board. "You have to go there, Owen. "
He paused and gave another impatient groan, "Alright. I'll see you at the gala?"
"You bet."
"Looking forward to it then."
"Me too." She smiled, stalling.
"Okay."
"Okay." she mimicked, lifting her bed covers although she was anything but sleepy.
"So, Good…night?"
"I'll see you tomorrow."
"Yeah. You sleepy though?" his voice, small and husky.
"No, not really." She answered, her gaze fell to the beam of city light sifted by her curtains.
"Can we talk for a bit?"
The adolescent tone of his voice elicited a girlish laugh out her lips. "Are you always like this?"
"Like what?"
She hinted the smile on his voice. "Insufferably…irresistible."
"I'm gonna add that to the list of 'Nice Words Claire Dearing Told Me'. I'm irresistible eh?"
Claire settled on her pillow, twirling the loose thread on her covers. Her smile making residency on her face. "Sometimes."
"Including today?"
He was raising his eyebrows, she was certain about that. "Ugh! Don't tell me you waited all day to bring that to the conversation?"
His laugh reverberated on the speaker, making her melt yet again. "It's not my fault you always look so... ravenous in everything you wear."
"So, it's my fault?" She remarked, trying to sound offended.
"Of course! I don't see why it's mine." he said with a teasing laugh.
"Moron." She huffed. "Don't do that again, Owen. I swear to God-"
He laughed. "Why not?"
"Are you kidding me? You're really asking me that? We're in a roomful of people!" Her blush starting to creep up on her neck. "It's improper."
He jested, chuckling. "Okay, okay! I'm sorry?"
"You should be!"
"I'll be glad to finish the job tonight, if you want." His voice was on the borderline of comical and serious.
The twinge in the pit of her belly he started this morning was making another comeback.
"You're impossible." she said more to herself than him.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry! I can make it up to you now." he promised with a light laugh.
"Oh yeah? How?" She playfully urged, biting her lip.
"Well, I could drive by. Then you can kick me out on the morning."
She doubled back in another heap of laughter.
"I appreciate it, but no. We have work. Although I like the kicking you out part."
"Of course, you do! So should I? I'll be there in 10 minutes."
"NO!" She glanced at her clock. The lights blinking, 1:34. "We should probably go to sleep."
He sounded like a kid whose lollipop got stolen. "You are? Thought you weren't sleepy yet?"
"I'm tired now. It's been a long and very hard day." She declared, and faked a yawn for effect.
"I'm gonna ignore the innuendo cause I'll get uncomfortable. But that's gotta be the worst fake yawn I've ever heard in my entire life."
"I AM tired!" She chuffed and teased him even further, "But, wew. It's just… is it me? Or is it hot in California all a sudden?"
He groaned.
"My AC's probably broken."
"Mine's not. You can sleep here." he affirmed, sounding hopeful.
"Nah! I'm just gonna remove my shirt to sleep better."
"Damn it, Dearing!"
She let out another playful chortle, "Don't dance with the wolf if you're not to prepared to blush, Grady."
"God, you're sexy."
"I know."
"The minute I get you to myself, there's not gonna be talking... nor sleeping. So yeah, better take your rest now."
"Promises, promises." She grinned, a devilish idea coming to her.
"Oh, I always keep my promises." His voice, deepening.
I know, she thought. "See you tomorrow."
"Goodnight Claire."
And she slept, feeling at ease and in high spirits like some kid being told that Christmas came early.
Wednesday morning was humid with a slow, city breeze coming off to cool him every now and then. The sun was already high enough, pouring brilliant rays of orange on the azure sky. The reflection of it, making his eyes hurt.
He decided to wear his casual clothes for today. The tailored suit Lowery picked up for him wasn't suited from what looked like another hot day. He drove through the blaring car horns and crowd's cry, unbothered by its noise this time.
Owen removed his aviators, threw it on the dashboard before he stepped out from his car. He noticed Claire's shiny car parked on the opposite side from his. His face cracked a smile, remembering their midnight call. He threw his jacket on the backseat and strode to the valet desk, whistling as he did so.
"Morning guys!"
"Morning! Somebody's cheery." Joe remarked, gripping the plastic handle of his mop.
"What are you talking about Joe? I'm always cheery." He defended, pressing the elevator button. "Hey there, Art. How'd your date go?"
The young bellboy stopped arranging the keys and turned to him. A smug look on his face. "Good, good. I got laid."
Owen raised his hand for a high five. "Nice! What'd I tell you, huh?"
"Thanks for the tip on that bar."
"Hey, It was all you, man. All you." He replied before stepping into the elevator.
"I'd say, you should probably get laid too…" Artie pointed out craning his neck as the door closed on him. "but it looks like you already are!"
Owen chuckled and hiking the strap of his backpack on his shoulder. "That I am."
The floor was already packed with his colleagues. They greeted him a good morning, others raised their coffee cups in acknowledgement. He smiled at them, offering compliments to anyone who passed by him.
"Morning, Owen." Lowery greeted as he approached him with a sheet of paper. "Let's go over your schedule for today. I already printed out another copy, it's on your desk."
Lowery read him his commitments and schedule for the morning. His ability to talk a hundred words per minute was useful, given their jam-packed day. He thanked him as they enter his office.
"-Also, Hawkins called. He wanted to know if you can make it to New York next week for golf and that Walmart meeting."
"Yeah, call Jasper for the plane. I wanna be out of there as soon as it's finished."
"Copy that."
"Thank you Lowery. Why don't you-"
A knock came from the door before a dark-haired beauty poked her head behind it. "I just wanna say hi to the big boss."
"Zara!" Lowery shouted.
"Hey Mrs. A! Come in Come on in!"
Zara walked up to Lowery first and gave him a friendly hug. "Can't believe I'm saying this, but I missed your snotty ass, Young. Oh no, It's Allerton now."
"Yes, well, don't let Claire see you in that ghastly shirt. Hey Owen!"
"Hey Z!" He gave her a one armed hug and noticed the bright glow hanging about her. Owen beamed at his friend. "How's the married life treating you?"
"I would highly recommend it." She smiled back.
"You coming in today?" Lowery added as he spread out the contracts that needed to his signature.
"Of course! Why else would I be here? Where's Zia?"
"I've no idea. Where's that woman?" His assistant asked, particularly no one. "She owes me gas money."
Owen shrugged, making a mental note to himself to call her later since he hasn't seen her since Monday- which was odd.
"Well, I can't stay long. I better go before Emma cries over Claire's emails again. And also to tell Owen, he's been summoned."
"She asked for me?" Owen grinned, Claire never asked for him at the office. Ever. If she was asking for him, it has to be big. Lowery appeared confused and swiped at his tablet to see if he missed Claire's word.
"She rescheduled another 10 minute meeting with Patrick Kadam today. But I still have to pick up the prints down at Engineering."
"New prints? Why would you need new prints?" Lowery asked.
"Claire asked for reprints since her copies were torn."
Owen pretended to smile at something he read from his phone.
"Owen, Claire said be there in 5 minutes." Zara reminded.
He felt a sly grin form on his face. "Be there in 3."
"Great! I'll be off. It's so good to be back."
"Welcome back! I got tons to tell you. I'll call Zia so she can join us for lunch." Lowery offered.
"I was hoping that." and she winked at them before she turned her leave.
"Lowery, please set up the boardroom for today's meeting."
"Will do, boss. Breakfast?" His assistant assumed as they walked back to the door.
"Yep. My usual coffee and a chicken sandwich please. Grab something for the yourself and the team as well."
"Alright. See you in a bit… And please, " he whined before walking backwards on the opposite direction. "if you could please, don't fight with her today? It's been so good these past couple of days. cause she wasn't biting anyone's ears anymore."
"I'll try not to." Owen called from behind his back as headed towards her office
"Try harder, Owen!"
As he approached her closed door, he couldn't help the impish grin on his face. He gripped the bronze handle and pushed, only for his jaw to drop to the floor.
The cream-coloured blinds hid the 360-view of the city, blocking the harsh rays of the day.
Her office was neat, nifty and elegant. Everything was in its particular order and hierarchy. It was a perfect reflection of her character. No flowers. No memorabilia or frames. Everything was in complimentary muted color. The only standout on the neutral scheme was her red dress and even redder hair.
She was leaning on the small meeting table on the right side of the room. Hands flat on the glass surface, the plans laid out held together by actual paper weights on its sides. She didn't turn her body when he opened the door. Too absorbed by the lines and measurements they studied together that fateful night. Her hair in their loose curls, reminding him how it spread out on his pillows. His thought process halted as she faced him, allowing him to wholly appreciate her outfit.
The dress fell on her calves. A slit running up her middle left thigh, exposing toned muscles as she walked. The deep v-shape of her dress revealed the smooth porcelain skin of her neck down to her cleavage. Thin straps of thread held her dress. He figured, he could snap them apart. The gold strappy heels that made her taller than she really was, was not helping his restraint... or his ability to breathe.
"Oh, Mr. Grady." She acknowledged, a come-hither look playing on her eyes and lips. "Good morning."
"I-uh. Um-" He stammered as he stood frozen by the doorway, mouth ajar.
"I requested another short meeting for the things you want for the new sanctuary for the resort. Like we discussed last weekend." She continued, prancing around her office like a matador with the red cloth. She reached for a binder on her top shelf, her gaze avoiding him "You're gonna stay there?"
"The view's pretty good here, thanks." He retaliated, leaning on the doorjamb.
She didn't appear the slightest of fazed as she read whatever it was on the binder. "Shall we have this meeting with you on the door then? I mean, it's a very interesting door."
He chuckled and walked towards her until he was across her, the table between them. Every inch of him fidgeting to touch her. Every rational thought was finding it hard to arrive to his brain. The vanilla whiff of her lotion and perfume exuding off of her was driving him to the cliff.
"Didn't know that that dress is allowed in our dress code." He murmured, his eyes attached to soft curve of her shoulder.
"It's not." She closed the binder and placed it on the table. Her attention was now the crumpled blue prints on the table.
"You're breaking one of your sacred rules? Color me surprise, Miss Dearing." he teased.
"What are rules if we're not to break them from time to time, Mr. Grady?"
He smirked, sensing her playful attitude. "Indeed."
"If it's too distracting, I could go grab my blazer." Her finger pointed to where her coat was hanging on the coat rack.
"No, please. It's no trouble." Owen shook his head. He knew, this was payback for what he did yesterday. He knew he wasn't gonna win this one. Not when she's dressed like that. But that doesn't mean he'd give her the satisfaction to know that she already did.
She batted her eyelashes at him, the playful glint on the corner of her eye. "Well, if you insist..." She arched her neck, and tossed her hair off her neck. Owen swallowed the thick gust of saliva on his tongue. "How's your morning so far, Mr. Grady?"
"It's looking up. As always. Thanks. You?"
"Great! But I'd say, it's a particularly hot morning." She tilted her head, her eyes scanning over him from head to toe.
It's pathetic but he felt the rush of energy where it wasn't needed the most at that moment.
"Is it?"
"Mmm-mmm."
"That AC of yours still not working?"
"Management's looking onto it." She disclosed, crossing her arms in front of her, pushing her breasts together. His denim pants now constricting him.
"I have a spare bedroom for tonight, should you want." He leaned his arms on the table, steadying himself on one foot.
"Thank you... but I can't."
"Why not?" he felt the knot on his eyebrows.
"I have a date tonight. Tux and gown night. Quite important."
His ears perked up, his smile stretching from across the room. "Oh yeah?"
"Yes. He might let me stay with him for the night too."
"Ain't he the luckiest son of a bitch." He jabbered, enjoying their flirtatious banter.
"No." she leaned her toned arms on the table, and in doing so, squished her breasts together again. He sucked in an audible gasp. Claire stared at his lips for longer than a second before she added in a low, seductive voice, "At least, not yet."
The suggestion in her bright green eyes made him curse under his breath. He glanced over her door and gave another tortured whisper. "Damn your glass doors."
Her whole face softened as she erupted into a melodic laughter. "Mission accomplished."
She stepped back and stood straighter, her aura sobering. "In a more serious note, let's review your last notes before Patrick gets here."
"I can't look at that without picturing you on my barn table." He said in a matter of fact tone to which Claire rolled her eyes. She retrieved a yellow post it and stuck it into his scribblings from the weekend. "Try to get through this day, maybe I'll let you again."
"I'll hold you to that, Dearing." He winked at her and saw the small blush on her cheeks right before Zara opened the door for Kadam and his crew.
The function hall was a showcase of fairy lights and batches of white flowers. At the centre of the room, was the elevated podium where a band was playing. Rows of white covered seats and tables furnished the expansive marble floors. People in their most impeccable wear roamed the room. Their wine glasses glinting and clinking during their conversations.
She arrived some thirty minutes ago. She has been smiling and talking to people she knew from her office and their other affiliates. It became overbearing at some point that Claire deliberately unmute her phone. As soon as she did, her phone welcomed messages after messages, she had to excuse herself. She sought her little hideout and sat on the windowsill. The two humongous blue curtains on either side of her allowed her anonymity. Claire sighed in relief. After responding to her emails, she remained on the spot, observing the festivity.
Her mind drifted to Owen and how he was late again. Surprisingly though, it didn't surprise her anymore. She sipped her Rose in silence, thankful for the quietness.
Until she heard a rough and annoyed voice,
"-will. You better be at the office tomorrow! So help me God, I-" the man with grey hair and short beard halted his words when he saw her. He was wearing a pinstriped suit that looked expsensive enough to tell her that he was important. He ended his call before he addressed her, "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know someone was here. It's usually my spot when an employee is-"
"It's fine. It's fine. " Claire smiled at the stranger. "I'm sorry for taking it. It's a little-"
"Bit crowded out there huh? Never liked crowds either."
She nodded. "Oh, I'm sorry. My name's-"
"You're Claire Dearing of Grady Corp., I know." the man extended his burly hand on hers. She gripped it with equal pressure. "Heard so much about you even down in San Jose. You're a legend."
"You're from San Jose?"
"Yes, Ma'am. Westgate & Pollard."
"Westgate and Pollard Inc.? San Jose?" she stood up from her excitement. "I applied for your internship program a couple of years ago."
"You did? Please don't tell me we didn't hire you."
Claire chuckled and shrugged. "You didn't that's why I'm at Grady Corp now."
"Ahh! Damn it! I knew Alan Grady. I attended his funeral. Man, I still get sad over it."
"I know. Everyone misses him." she mused, remembering her old friend and mentor.
"But the prodigal son returned eh? Alan's only boy?"
"Yes. Owen." she nodded.
"Yes, Owen Grady. Is he coming tonight? I didn't have the chance to approach him during the funeral."
"He is. He's supposed to be here..." she checked her watch. "45 minutes ago."
The man chuckled. "I'll drop by his table later and introduce myself. Anyway, it's nice to meet you in the flesh, Miss Dearing."
"I'm sorry, I didn't get your name."
"I'm-" suddenly the angry blare of his ringtone interrupted them. He produced it from his pocket and cursed. "Shit, I'm sorry I have to take this. I'll see you later, Claire."
"See you." she called out after his retreating figure before she saw Lowery enter the hall. She craned her neck, expecting a pari of hazel green eyes following him. But he was nowhere to be seen.
"Where is he?" she asked him when she beckoned him over.
"He had to drop something at his place. Driver's with him. So he won't be late-r." replied Lowery just as a passing waiter walked by them with glasses of red wine on his tray.
Up on the stage, the music stopped as a smart-looking man rose to the podium. In a deep, pleasant voice, he announced that everybody should take their seats.
She separated with Lowery and went to the seat with her nameplate on it. She strike another small talk with the other guests on her table. The smart-looking man reappeared and introduced the head of Social Affairs. Edgar Stinson was a man in his early 50's. His bald patch highly comical and noticeable especially with the stage light on him. He was a pleasant man, Claire had talked to him before he was even head of Social Affairs of Empire Land Holdings. They clapped him as he began his introduction. During the middle of his speech, her phone rang an annoying alarm. She ignored it. But it rang again and again. Feeling the daggers sent her way by the people around her, she decided to sneak a peek.
"Red is now my favourite color." The recent text read.
Her lips formed into a familiar smile and looked down the deep shade of red of her attire. Claire turned her head about the room in search for its flatterer. When she didn't, she texted back.
Red, huh? What was it before?
She didn't have to wait that long for his answer,
I have no fucking idea. But it's red now.
Claire bit her lip to stop another idiotic smile and focused on Stinson's raspy voice.
"-And now, I have to admit, my ego feels good cause I got to stand here before this guy so…"
Her phone vibrated again, indicating another text.
You look beautiful, by the way.
In the background, a round of chuckles befell the room as she thought of her reply.
"-Everyone, ladies, please give your hands for the dashing Owen Grady."
At the mention of his name, she looked up. The room erupted into a loud applause as Owen entered the hall, a warm ray of spotlight on him. He had switched his faded blue jeans and plain shirts for a three-piece suit and a decorative tie. He trimmed down his beard but she could still make out its roughness on his defined jaw. His hair combed and styled like those Hollywood actors. The majestic wrinkles on his face visible on his forehead and eyes as he dazzled the whole room. He was strikingly handsome. Claire finally understood what the phrase, "It's so beautiful, it hurts." meant as he walked up the stage.
The room watched with her as he descended the podium. Owen smiled, raised his hand in a small wave. His eyes scanned the crowd before it landed on hers. Claire raised her eyebrows at him, the corner of her lips tugging upwards as he focused his gaze on her. Owen gave her a knock-you-on-your-ass smile before he finally tear his eyes off.
"Thank you, thank you Eddie," He turned to the side, his hand adjusting the microphone. "But, come on dude, you're way better looking than I am. I heard you stole Ian Malcolm's date back in Junior High. "
The audience laughed.
Owen unbuttoned his jacket. And like a switch that's been switched on, his wacky demeanour matured. "Ladies and gentlemen, it's a real honour to be here. First of, I'd like to congratulate ELH for yet another milestone-"
His sonorous voice piqued everyone's attention in the room, herself not excluded. Each word smart and concise as the next. Claire listened as Owen recited his speech, his notes lie useless on his front pocket. Occasional chuckles and claps eventuate from the crowd during his ten-minute spiel. She couldn't take her eyes off him. His magnetic appeal palpable in his stance as much as his words. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach upon a flick of a gaze of his calm, hazel greens. His genuine, megawatt smile thawing the coldest and hardest parts in her.
It was then that Claire realised something for certain. For the first time in her independence, she wanted someone by her side. She wanted to explore that uncharted territory of serious, adult relationships. She wanted to make an effort to make it work. And she wanted it to be with him. Claire Dearing wanted Owen Grady.
Pride swelled in her chest as he finished. Owen handed and presented a small, bronze sculpture of a spade in soil to Jefferson. Her long, wavy brunette hair cascading over the white sequinned gown she's wearing. She was a prim woman, with a regal nose, thin lips and slim figure. Claire watched-with great amusement- as Jefferson pressed her lips on Owen's uncomfortable cheeks. His nervous laugh obvious to anyone but her. Jefferson took the stage and Owen disappeared behind the sidelines. For the past 10 minutes, Claire refocused on Ellen's declamation. But before Jefferson's speech reach its penultimate part, Claire received another message. She peeked from underneath the table to read it,
Help me. he texted.
What now? And where the hell are you?
I can't fix my tie.
She sneered but couldn't help her amusement over it. Why'd you remove it anyway?
I had to wash off lipstick stains that smelt like cigarettes. Now I can't get it back.
No. Claire smirked and clapped as Jefferson finished. He took longer than a minute to respond so she busied herself with the appetiser they laid on her table.
Her phone buzzed.
"Can you help me?
And another follow up text,
Please?
And another.
I'm well behaved, I promise.
She sighed. Fine. But you have to know, you're pathetic.
Ha! Thanks! The lounge bar by the entrance.
Claire offered polite smiles to the group before she grabbed her purse and left the table. She walked out into a wide hallway filled with an illustrative diagram of the company. Also nailed on the stark wall, in blue glass frames were ELH's accomplishments. Familiar and less familiar faces beaming down at her. Her heels made loud clanking noises on the tiled floor. As she walked towards where he said he was, she wondered what if they pushed through their date, tonight.
He was right. She already made a plan. It was already planned out the moment she got out of his house last weekend. Claire never had a guest come over before, except her family and Zara. So, as usual she went into an overdrive of preparations, and her own fair share of overthinking.
And even though she knew, Owen didn't care for the tissue folds or the candlelights, Claire was still nervous. She had never gone past a second date for years. How do people prepare a table for a date in the first place? She didn't wanna come across as too trying nor too laid back. The only reliable reference she got was from movies. And also, her nosy sister Karen. She decided going for a simpler one. The grocery list was ready and on her bedside table. The table decorations were out of their boxes for the first time in years.
"Everything's gonna be fine, Claire." She said to herself. "Owen is - shit!"
Masculine, cold hands suddenly propelled her into a dark corner. With her heart in her throat, she instinctively wrapped her hands on her assailant's biceps. The white rows of teeth and the tamed stubble eased her shock.
"What the fuck! Grady!" she hollered.
The ounce of light coming from the windows allowed her to see his mischievous eyes. "I'm what?"
"Asshole! You almost killed me!"
"Naah." He dropped his head and kissed the ridge on her collarbone, her eyes shutting for a second. "I'm too fond of you." Her temper waned as he whispered on her jaw. Her
hands forming a circle around his shoulders as he continued raining kisses on her neck.
"Thought you needed my help with something?" She breathed, her fingers diving on the little hairs on his nape.
Owen grabbed her waist and pulled her towards him. His lips going straight for her pulse. "I do? Can't remember."
Claire stifled a moan and angled her head. She slid her hands on the undone tie around his neck. "Owen…"
"Mmm?" His hands were now following the curve of her dress. Her heartbeat picking up the pace.
"We have to go back." She sighed and slightly pulled away.
Owen groaned. His lips halted its torture and his hands remained on her hips. "I hate parties."
Claire gave a short laugh. She grabbed his hand and pulled him towards a better lighting. Owen followed with little hesitation.
"Can't you tie your own tie?" She asked as she positioned the blue and white tie under his collar.
"I can. But this old woman who rode the elevator with me, thought it didn't match my whole outfit. So, who am I to deny a lady's request?"
"Is that so?"
He nodded. "Plus, it looked so good. And you wanted me to look presentable."
"You should've brought her." She joked as she copied the tie's previous Trinity knot.
"I've thought of that. Mrs. Coy is pretty hot with her grandma hair and hunched shoulders. She'll definitely throw everyone off guard. And you might get jealous."
She laughed at the absurdity. Her? Jealous? "That's gotta be the funniest thing you ever said to me."
"Ri-ight. Cause you don't?" It was his turn to roll his eyes.
She stood straighter and levelled her eyes at him, as though it'll make her statement truer. "I don't."
He cocked one eyebrow but didn't say anything. She was getting the impression that neither of them believed her. Without warning, Lex Murphy's dark blonde hair and bright smile flashed in her face. The unfamiliar punch drove in her stomach again.
Fuck! Was that... Was she jealous? Of her?
She was almost finished when Owen mumbled, his eyes on her face,
"Fair enough. But you don't have to be jealous with anyone, anyways…" his tone turned serious. And Owen was never serious even if he can't help it. With that, Claire raised her eyes at him.
"You're crazy if you think I'm interested in anyone but you." He smiled- that warm, almost shy smile of his, that's making her feel like a 16 year old with a crush again. "I only want you, Claire Dearing, I thought you knew that by now."
A stampede rampaged in her stomach. His soft eyes sweeping her into a land of possibilities and sincere promises. Even with her 4-inch heels, he was still taller than her. Claire stretched her neck to him. Still speechless, she pulled him down using the tail of his tie and brushed her lips to his.
I want you too. She tried telling him through their kiss.
She felt Owen's smile as he opened his mouth, his tongue searching hers. Claire angled her head to kiss him better. His arms wrapping around her waist. His hand pushing the back of her head as an attempt to deepen their heating kiss. Sensing his earnestness behind his pants, she pulled away with a slow smack.
"Later… Let's go, handsome."
The lights' been dimmed, casting a mysterious, romantic glow on the auditorium. Half of the audience already left, the night a bit extravagant after their long day. Cutleries were set aside, new wine glasses brought in. The bartenders served quality drinks to the folks who didn't give a damn that it's still work day tomorrow.
After the programme proper, the band took the centre stage again. Their solemn and classic renditions enchanting the vibrant audience. But it was Sam Cooke's "Bring It On Home To Me" that brought out the "romantics" out of every man in the room. Colleagues paired up with each other, swaying to the soft melody on the floor before the stage. Their whispered conversations and pleasantries could still be heard amidst the song.
The low lights of the room and the flock of people on the floor enabled them to be unnoticeable.
She pressed her cheeks on his shoulder as he glided them. The spicy scent of his aftershave soothing her into what could she could only identify as bliss. The vibrations from his chest as he lip-sync was turning her insides into melted butter. His breath, warm and ticklish her ear. He belted out the last notes of the song and she threw her head back and laughed. Owen settled his hands on her waist,
"Having fun, Miss Dearing?"
"No. Of course, I'm not."
"This is a date, right?" he asked.
"It is."
Owen chuckled, his thumbs drawing circles on the exposed skin of her lower back. "Good. So, can we go now?"
"Why? I thought you're enjoying yourself? Besides, you're dancing and in a suit.'" She held him at arm's length as she took a quick gander. "This isn't too bad."
"Ha-ha! We're so full of compliments today, aren't we? But uh..."
"What?"
He leaned towards her ear, his breath turned hot and shallow, it sent waves of shivers down her spine. "I wanna do these things with you. And these people, well, they might not like it."
His mouth lingered and Claire, intoxicated, pressed herself closer to him. Right now, she couldn't care less if somebody saw them intimately attached to the hip. "5 minutes." She whispered against his earlobe before giving a kiss on it. "5 more minutes."
Owen growled and pressed their hips together. His fingers fiddling over her the length of her arms, waist and hipbones. He dropped his head on her shoulder and hissed. "Well, since you asked so nicely."
She rested her forehead on his shoulder as he led them through the song.
"You're so beautiful." His tone, soft-spoken it was making her heart beat faster. Owen paused their dancing and added, "Did I say that out loud?"
She smiled, pressing her lips where her forehead was seconds ago. "You did."
"Oh well." He shrugged and continued their slow dance. "You wanna know something though?
"What?"
"I can't wait to get this off you."
She pulled away from his embrace and looked down her floor length dress. It was store bought from when she was in New York. It was a long-sleeve dress, with a plunging neckline. The back held together by a button on her nape, her lower back bare and smooth under his hands.
Her lips curled as he started to feel him through his dress pants. Owen's hands sliding down her back, down her ass and back up again. He had the annoying, boyish grin on his face.
She rolled her eyes. "Such a gentlemen, you are."
"Blame yourself." He was now tracing his nose on a lose strand by her face. "When it comes to you, all my thoughts evaporate."
Claire arched her back, aware that she was brushing her barely-clad chest against his. "If you like this dress then you'll definitely like what I'm wearing underneath."
He groaned. The hands on her waist tightened. Her forehead resting against his. "God damn it, Claire. Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?"
She bit her lower lip, taking pleasure from his squirming. "I have some."
"Mmmm."
In a bold move, Owen dipped his head until she felt his mouth against that spot on her neck. His kisses made her close her eyes. Her calm breathing turned into short gasp when the his expert tongue suck the spot below her ear. Claire felt the undeniable pull of their attraction again, charging and frantic. She let out a silent moan. Her chest rising and falling as he continued leading them through another slow dance. His lips trailing kisses from the love bite he left to her collarbone. His thumbs on the underside of her breasts.
"I want you." He pulled away and Claire opened her eyes. His eyes had already darkened, his smug expression turned feral, if not, more aroused. "Anyway I can have you."
Claire removed his hands off her body and stepped back. Her eyes, steady and promising, "Let's go."
The digital alarm clock by her bedside table gave an annoying, loud cry. With closed eyes, her hand scrabbled its way from wristwatch and books to find the snooze button.
But somebody reached out and beat her to it, the clock stopped. She heard a manly groan and felt the whoop of air as he retracted his arm from her side. Claire's eyes blinked open, and she felt the corners of her lips turn upwards.
Owen.
He was facing her. His warm, taut body naked from the top. A blanket draped over his hips, his boxers peeking from under the duvet in a very alluring way.
Claire rested on her left arm as she admired his sleeping form. His eyes moving under closed lids, his scruff looking rougher in the morning light. Faded traces of her lipstick were still visible on his mouth, his neck and his pecs. His hair, a mess from his various sleeping positions. She raked a hand through it, parting the light brown strands so it would resemble normalcy. Owen moaned in his sleep before he lied on his stomach. Discoloured scars and the long, red stripes trimming his chest and arms. Claire kissed an ugly red blotch on his shoulder, guilty as a sinner in church.
Her face flushed as she remembered their vigorous activities. Activities that made her body stiff and ached in the zones she'd never known before.
She remembered teasing him mercilessly in the car. Her hand climbing nearer the promised land. He was swearing the whole ride back, his hands torn from focusing on the wheel and touching her. Claire feared for her life when he floored the gas pedal that she immediately retracted her hand. She was sure they'd broken a thousand traffic laws last night. When they reached her elevator, she had to restrain herself from ripping his clothes. Owen stood behind her. His erection rubbing against hers as he listed out the things he'd be doing to her. It only egged her on on her devious conquest. As soon as her door closed, clothes came off in record speed. Mouths muffled each other's lusty comments.
If there was something she learned from Owen Grady that night, it was you could never sexually frustrate him without paying for it.
Maybe it was the wine that made them eager than usual. Maybe not. But she knew they've never been that rough before. Mindless. Animalistic. All inhibitions and reservations about sex, gone and forgotten. Owen had brought out her out of her timid, plain shell. Like he had poured a bottle of some type of sexual water, making her all kinds of hot and messy.
Love bites smeared her thighs, neck and breasts. Foreplay was set aside for the next rounds. Their flushed, sweating bodies moved together in a perfect, mind-blowing rhythm. Tongue, mouth and hands couldn't get enough. Fingernail and bite marks etched his body from when she was begging him to end his torment. Claire lost track of how many times she screamed his name. They lie exhausted afterwards. Their breaths mingling together as they slept side by side. The room reeking of sweat and their love-making.
Owen moved and rested on his stomach, his lips slightly parted.
With the tip of her finger, Claire trailed the hollow part where his spine is. The muscles clenching and relaxing at her touch. She did the same to his arm, starting from the round part of his shoulder down to his knuckles. He muttered something incoherent but remained asleep. She kissed the pulse point on his neck and whispered, "Wake up."
He didn't budged hence Claire started leaning her body towards his. "Wake. Up. Owen. Grady." She mumbled against his tanned back, accentuating each word with kisses.
Owen made a sound of protest before lying on his back. His chest rising up and down in a steady rhythm. Red marks and more battle scars flawing the toned muscles. Reminded by how he had unraveled her with his mouth and hands alone, she traced each mark. It was time to return the favour.
She lowered her lips and pursued each scar with open-mouthed kisses.
Claire felt the rush of blood on her cheeks, neck, chest and abdomen as she continued her task. Owen still oblivious his breathing calmer than ever. Maybe she did tire him out- as he had openly admitted the night before. Still, she pursued. As slow as she could, she pulled the covers covering his lower half. The bump on his boxers wakening her lust.
Nobody had quite the effect Owen had on her. Nobody made her wanna do the things she's doing to him now.
You and I are good together, Claire. He said, right after they finished their third round. She nodded, delirious but still aware
That he wasn't just talking about in a sexual way. It made him more irresistible in her eyes.
With aching triceps, she poised over him. The night gown she managed to wear before they fell asleep slid down to her stomach.
Claire kissed his chin, down his chest and hard stomach. She stopped before the waistband of his boxers, long enough to see any signs of stirring from him. There wasn't any. Claire pushed on, emboldened by his compliments the last time she did this.
His member stirred when her lips touched it. She gave feather light kisses on his thighs before going back round again. The ache in her core pulsing in anticipation and remembrance of what he did the night before. Her thighs burnt and still sensitive from his side burns.
Claire opened her mouth and nipped him through the fabric. Her tongue slipping past its confine to lick him. She heard him grunt but still, didn't rouse. Claire pulled down his boxers. His swelling member sprung free, its girth mesmerising her. She kissed the tip before dragging her lips down his whole length.
"Uhhh."
Claire looked up and saw a still disoriented Owen gaping down at her. His voice still croaky. "What are you doing?"
She closed her hand on his burgeoning erection, "Waking you up."
He let out a deep chuckle, she felt it went straight to her core. "And you think that's the best way?"
Claire didn't answer right away. Instead, she swallowed him, as far as she could go.
Owen hissed, his hand bunching her hair.
She smiled, letting him go with a loud pop. "Isn't it?"
"Shi-it!" He cussed, his mouth pointed towards the ceiling.
Claire opened his legs and rested between them, her eyes never leaving his as she did it again. Her tongue making his thickness slick with her saliva. She had never felt more powerful than that moment. Owen, real life Adonis, was writhing underneath her and encouraging her to keep going. Claire trusted her instincts and sucked him. Her cheeks hollowing as she pulled him deeper. Her unoccupied hand kneading him mercilessly. Owen's hands flew to her head as she bobbed up, down, up down. Her mouth following her hand's downward movements. He tasted divine. The musky scent of his soap and him was a heady combination she couldn't get enough of. Claire set her hands behind his hips, and forced his pelvis on her mouth. He was starting to grow thick. Well, thicker.
"Claire, fuck… Baby." He panted, raising his hips and assisting her.
She felt like a vixen, the moistness between her legs was starting to make it harder to concentrate. As far as blowjobs go, Claire had never given one before, until Owen. She had thought of it- due to Karen's over excessive retelling of her very own escapades. But neither of her lovers made it past the "I can trust you" stage. Nor had they made her feel like how Owen was making her feel. She was on blazing fire.
Owen's fingers moved from her temple to the straps of her gown. He tugged at it. Without taking her mouth off him, Claire slid the silk off her. Owen kicked it down and out the bed. He sighed as she flattened her tongue on the angry vein. She was enjoying and tasting every bit of him. Her name garbled between his heavy sighs. He was a sight to behold. Owen reached down and played with her breasts, tweaking them into hardened rose buds. She moaned, nibbled his tip only to enclosed him in her mouth again. She was stretching her lips wide to fit him. Owen bucked his hips, once, twice, the pace getting quicker. He reached down, his hand squeezing her ass. He gave it a light slap, making her yelp in lust. She pushed him down her throat, her eyes watering.
He swore, panting her name. "Babe, baby..."
"Mmm?" She hummed again, her words vibrating off him as she continued. Both her hands assisting her.
"I don't… want to…fuck!… cum in your mouth."
"Why not?" Claire teased, bringing him til the back of her throat, earning a loud grunt from him. God, she was becoming insatiable. She did it again, and again. His manhood became thicker as she suck, bite, and lick him. His fingers dove in her hair, pulling at them from time to time. She started holding his hips down as his breathing became harsher.
"Tell me if you're close." She mumbled, her mouth so full of him.
He swore and roughly pulled her by her underarms, she had no choice but to fall against him. Owen smashed his lips on hers, his tongue outlining the corners of her mouth.
He was pinning her down with his lips. So hard their teeth were clashing. Claire chased his tongue with hers as she straddled him. Her silk creating a delicious friction against his centre, they couldn't help but moan.
She was too busy grinding her wetness against his that she didn't notice his legs tangling with hers. Without warning, Owen rose and threw her gently so that her head was at the foot of the bed. With hasty movements, that didn't give her enough time to think, he pulled her underwear and plunged. Claire covered her mouth with a fist to silence her scream.
"No." Owen grumbled, shoving her hands to her side as he rolled his hips. "I'm going to hear you scream."
"Owen…" she moaned, meeting his deep strokes. Every nerve lit by electric shocks and fire. She thrashed her legs around.
He leaned down, his mouth to her ear as he rooted deeper into her. "We'll go slow this time, baby."
And he did.
He fucking did. From his kisses, to the movement of his groin. It almost made her lose her mind. She threw her head to the side, her lungs gasping for him to go faster.
She tried raising her hips but Owen was relentless. He kept up the languid pace, yet he was hitting her spots. All she could think about was how lucky she was that he took interest in her. Out of all the hot bimbos googling at him, he chose her. Claire Dearing, the uptight, icy bitch corporate queen of the 21st century.
Owen leaned his forehead against hers, his lips catching her laboured breaths. "If you keep spreading your legs like that, I'm gonna lose all this gentleman shit."
"Faster, harder."
He shook his head, tugging her lower lip between his teeth. "No."
She arched her back and hugged his torso with her thighs. Although she didn't care, she reasoned, "We're gonna be late to work."
"I. don't. care." He emphasised with each push, his hands, she was sure, were leaving imprints on her hips.
Profanity wasn't always in her vocabulary, but she let out a loud one as he ground down on her.
"So… sexy." He grunted, leaning down so he could lap her breast with his skilled mouth. He released her hands as he cupped her breasts. Claire pushed his face closer, her body couldn't get enough of him. She spread her legs even further as he continued the tortured pace. His hands now holding down her clumsy thighs. Their synchronised moans shattering the solidarity of her apartment. His words, her name, pushing her to the brink.
She came with a loud cry, her nails digging on Owen's biceps. He didn't stop as her body twitched in ecstasy. He was still rock hard, her walls were quivering, pulling him in deeper. She slackened, her back hitting the mattress. Owen stood on his knees and looked down their meeting bodies. Her moisture dripping between them.
"You're so hot… Fucking hell, Claire." He whispered, his eyes were almost black as he shoved his entirety up to her womb. Claire yelped, her hands going round his backside to assist him. "Please."
"Please, what?" He grouched, his tempo, deeper and slower.
"Faster, Owen."
Owen dropped his head and put one breast in his mouth. "I like it when you beg."
"Stop teasing me. Please." She raised her hips again, her whole body arching to meet him.
"Very well." He grinned, before crushing his lips on hers.
Claire cried as he increased his speed. He grabbed her legs and put them in his shoulders, the angle hitting her in all the right fucking places.
He was so deep. Fuck.
Claire bit his lip as she start feeling her own climax again. She dug her nails his arms as Owen pummelled her. He pounded into her with the same force they had last night. Her thighs squishing her breasts in whole new delicious way.
She sighed before dragging her teeth to his chin. "God, Owen. Right there… So good."
"Baby…"
She smiled against his ear and traced the outline with her tongue. Owen released her legs from her shoulders and pulled them in a sitting position. Claire flattened her toes on the bed as Owen adjusted them. She spread her legs and ground her pelvis against his, her arms leaning behind her.
"Yes." She murmured, her head tilting back as his fingers played with her nub.
"I couldn't get enough of you." Owen laid a hand on her lower back and brought her closer. His fingers torturing her sensitive nerve.
"Me too." She admitted, her tongue tracing his jaw. "Keep going. I'm so close."
He nuzzled in to her neck as he moaned, his body curving against hers. The force of his hips making her buck harder on him. Back and forth. She held on to his shoulders as she bounced down on him. Her breasts caught by his lips and hands. Their hips dancing together in luscious harmony enough to make her go crazy. Claire felt the rush of warm liquid. She gasped out loud.
"Fuck yes." Owen grabbed her hips and slammed her body down on his. Over and over again. Their bodies making slapping sounds as it hit each other. Claire stood on her knees as she clamped down on him, her wall tightening and swallowing his member. Her own hands massaging her breats and rubbing them against his. He kissed her again, their tongues copying the passion of their lower halves.
Christ.
Claire pinned him down the pillows as she sought their sweet release. Their strides precise and speeding up. Owen was grunting and hitting her body mid air with the same ferocity as he did last night. She held down his shoulders as her body started to shake. The look of utter desire in his eyes enough to satisfy her for a lifetime. Owen jarred into her, clinging to her as if she was the last life vest in the ocean. His dexterity making her whole body bounced with unconstrained ferity.
She felt her walls tighten as his shaft pulsed. Claire yelled as their white heat drowned them both in a sweet, fast, simultaneous tides. Her insides shook as she finally felt it oozing down and out of her. Owen's body jerked beneath her, his own seed filling her. She collapsed, her strength finally waning.
For a moment, she lay there on top of him, her mouth buried on his neck. Her body heaved with him, their lungs breathing hard in the silence of the early morning.
"You can wake me up like that every time." He started when his breathing turned normal.
She laughed and rolled to lie beside him. "Thanks for the workout."
"Anytime. Seriously, anytime." He said and scooched closer to kiss her.
"I'd ofter you breakfast, but we're gonna be late."
He groaned, tucking his head beneath her chin, his hand on her waist. "Remind me, why we have to work again?"
Claire giggled, her hand sifting his sweat-matted hair. "Because you own the company and you love ordering people around. Especially me."
She felt him grin against her neck. "I can still order you around in here. We don't have to be working."
"That won't be a very productive day."
"Between you and me, we could figure something out." He stated, wiggling his eyebrows.
"Aren't you tired of me yet?" She chuckled.
"Never." And he kissed her nose, her cheeks and neck. His arms pulling her closer to him. "I could do this all day."
Her phone started blowing up just as she was starting to get comfortable. She reached an arm towards the side table as Owen continued tickling her with kisses.
There were new emails and texts from her assistants.
He groaned. "I hate your phone."
Claire giggled and tried to push him off her. When she was sure that her legs won't give up, she stood away from the bed. She picked his dress shirt from the window and put it on.
"You're kicking me out, aren't you?" He chuckled, grabbing the wrinkled sheet below his feet. His still-clouded eyes following her.
"If you must know, you naked and on my bed isn't good for my concentration."
"As you are mine, Dearing."
She set the last few buttons and straightened her coverup. The sleeves were too large for her frame, the hem falling a few inches before her knees. Owen grumbled another curse. "Wearing my clothes is not helping me either."
She scoffed, garnering the remaining clothing off the carpeted floor. She smirked as she hoisted her underwear last night. It was still held together. She made the right choice of tossing it before Owen could rip it apart. She picked up her dress, his pants and untwisted the tie still wrapped on the foot of her bed.
"Nor bending over." He rested his hands below his head, settling against her pillows.
"I'm not-" Claire hung the pieces of clothing on the nearby chair. "That reminds me. I have to update my fertility shot tomorrow."
He looked confused. "Okay."
"You don't know what it means, do you?" She playfully asked.
"What does it mean? besides the scientific fact?"
"It means, Mr. Grady that I can't have sex in the next seven days."
He bolted from his sitting position. "What?!"
The look of complete horror on his face was adorable, she couldn't help but laugh. Claire walked towards the bed, crawled on all fours up to him. Grasping, his chin between his forefinger, she kissed him.
"Not funny." He mumbled against her puckered lips.
She gave him another quick kiss before sucking his bottom lip and pulling it between her teeth. "Get out Grady or I'll make that happen."
Claire was only ten minutes late and she only felt half bad which she thought was an improvement. She apologised to the men and sent quick orders to Zara and , she didn't miss anything important but Lowery still filled her in.
Not after an hour later, Owen arrived. He came barging in with his usual optimistic attitude and pot luck of breakfast. In an instant, everybody seemed to loosen up. The austere looking boardroom suddenly looked like a school cafeteria. Owen apologised to the group who, Claire knew for a fact, didn't mind at all.
The meeting took quick pause as Owen distributed their sandwiches and beverages. The twelve members in the room had their very own coffee personally handed out to them. Owen, being the thoughtful guy that he was, knew who preferred Cappuccino over black coffee. He knew who's allergic to nuts and who's not. Claire watched him with a deeper respect than ever before.
When everybody was busy with their own meal, Owen gave her the orange juice and a healthy breakfast bowl.
"Thanks." She smiled behind her cup.
"Anytime, Miss Dearing." He then boldy winked at her, earning another beaming smile from her.
At the corner of her eye, he saw Lowery smirking at them. He quickly recovered and knotted his thick eyebrows over the tablet in his hand.
The meeting went on for another hour with periodic pauses as the group laughed at something Owen had said. Claire found herself alongside them as well. She felt light-headed, pride oozing in her veins as she observed Owen being, well, Owen.
He was bright, communicative and an empathic listener to his peers. He knew when to joke and when to roll up his sleeve when times get difficult. He doesn't blame anyone for setbacks. But genuinely gives advice on how to properly handle it next time. Owen was a great leader, everybody could see that. And Claire felt a strong urge to kiss him in front of all these people.
She focused on her work as the day dragged on. Their own commitments keeping her from seeing him. But when they do, she would give him a sly smile. And he would brush his hand on any body part he could come contact with.
Before the day ended, Zara and Emma entered her office. In their hands were folders of agreements and contracts needed reviewing. Emma ran through her schedule for tomorrow. She noted with an ounce of pity that Emma looked frightened. Her words and hands trembling. Her back and jaw tense. It made Claire think, was she as scary as everybody deemed her to be?
"Thank you Emma. You did great today." She smiled.
Emma's doe-brown eyes dilated at her words. The poor kid didn't look like she haven't got a compliment from her before. Zara, who was sitting across the young woman, nudged her with her shoe. Emma stuttered a quick thank you before Claire told them that she'll see them tomorrow.
For another 30 minutes, she stayed on her desk, writing her notes on the files her assistants left her. When she's finished, she compiled them and delivered them to Owen's office.
To her surprise, his lights were on. The blinking cityscape hidden by dark curtains. His things were still here. The Jansport backpack sat on the chair in front of his massive oak table. Binders and paper sheets were lining on a neat pile on a connecting desk. His jacket was hanging on the master's chair. An unfinished cup of coffee lie cold beside his running laptop.
Claire proceed towards the centre desk and placed her folders on the empty spot. She acquired a post-it littering beside his telephone to write,
Need your notes on this as well. Needed 9 am tomorrow!- Claire
Her lips formed into another playful smile as she tear another note. This time, she wrote,
Raincheck date? Tomorrow night? :)
For a moment, she thought of the best place to put it and almost automatically, opened his drawer.
Above his staple wires and paper clip organiser was a blank white folder. Claire pulled it out, thinking it was empty. But sheets of paper slipped out.
"Shit!"
Way to be sneaky and romantic, Claire.
She bent to pick it up. Words and pictures printed on it formed together. Her eyes widened as her brain processed the words. Claire felt her blood ran cold when she figured it all out.
Her eyes skimmed the contents, one by one, her hands shaking as she flipped them. She was too absorbed, too horrified to notice the man entering the doorway.
"Claire?"
She lifted her watering eyes at him, her whole body trembling.
An unfamiliar cloud seemed to cover his features as he understood what she was holding. His eyes, the soft hazel greens, became unfathomable.
Claire gripped the papers even tighter. Her nails tearing holes in them.
She couldn't speak.
She couldn't move.
She needed explanation.
She needed to breathe.
Owen spoke, his tone dreadfully quiet. "You're not supposed to see that."
To be continued...
AN: We're getting on to something guys. Hang in there, hang in there. :)