Chapter 13: Chapter 13
Margret’s POV
“I took a video of you dancing,” he whispered.
It was a few, long moments before his words registered above the feeling of him moving in me. “Wh—what?”
“I don’t know why. I won’t show it to Williams. I just . . .” He watched my face, slowing down enough presumably so I could think. “You were so fucking possessed. I wanted to remember. Bloody hell, I feel like I’m confessing my sins.”
I swallowed, and he bent closer, kissing me before I asked, “Is it weird that I like that you did that? He laughed into my mouth, moving in and out of me again with slow, deliberate strokes. “Just enjoy it, right? I like to watch you. You were performing for me. There isn’t anything wrong with it.” He lifted my other leg, wrapping both around his waist, and then, for the span of several perfect seconds in the darkness, he started to really move. Fast and urgent, he let out the most delicious grunts and there would be no question what was happening if someone happened upon our little corner of this balcony. ‘ankles in the air’ With that thought alone—where we were, what we were doing and the possibility that someone could see Raymond taking me so roughly—I was lost. My head rolled back against the wall and I could feel it building in my belly so low and heavy, an aching ball rolling down my spine and then out, exploding along my sex so hard I cried out, not even caring a little if anyone could hear me. I didn’t even need to see his face to know he was watching me come apart.
“Holy fuck.” His hips grew jagged and rough and then he came with a low groan, fingers digging hard into my hips. He might bruise me, I thought. And then: I hope he bruises me. He stilled, leaning heavily against me, with his lips planted gently against my neck. “Good Lord, little Maggie. You’ve wrecked me.” He pulsed in me—aftershocks of his orgasm—and I wanted him to stay buried deep like this for eternity. I imagined how we looked from across the club: a man pressing a woman to a wall, the hint of her legs around his hips visible in the darkness. His broad hand smoothed up my leg from my ankle to my hip, and then with a small moan, he pulled out, set me on my feet, stepped back, and unrolled the condom. Holy hell, I had never even come close to doing something this insane. My grin took over my entire face as my legs shook almost to the point of collapse. I had done it at so many weird places with Williams but never with the assumption of so many audiences. It was perfect. Everything about this had been perfect, but it had to end right here or Williams would throw a fit. There was no compromising this, I thought clearly now. Obviously, I was blinded by a horny fog if I ever thought I could combine Williams and Raymond; both at the same time and place doing it to me once. Straightening my dress, I stretched on my toes to kiss his lips once. “That was unbelievable.”
He nodded, humming a little into the kiss. “It was. Shall we—?”
“I’m going to go downstairs.” I began to back away and gave him a small wave. He stared at me, confused. “My promises?”
“We could make arrangements?” I asked, adrenaline still buzzing in my veins, I turned before he could respond, and left him standing with his pants unbuttoned, his lips twisted in a surprised grin. Minutes later I found Loretta and Amanda, both of them ready to head home. Arm in arm we left the club, and only after we were in the limo, and I was silently reliving every second of what had just happened with Raymond and as though on cue. My phone beeped. It was a text message from Raymond. “Have dinner with me tomorrow night” the message read and a part of me knew that he wasn’t making a request.
******
Three days later, I was meeting Raymond Jones in a restaurant on the outskirt of the town and far from the apartment I was staying with my friends. Before our first meeting earlier today, I hadn’t spoken to or seen Williams since our landing and after the meeting, we hadn’t met or spoken one-on-one and I kind of wanted to but here was I meeting someone else. Someone who was supposed to be my sworn enemy. The restaurant was dim, practically empty, and smelled amazing. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten anything more substantial than eggs and sausages. My mouth watered and, for a moment, I forgot that I was supposed to be on high alert.
“Maggie?” My name was a quiet, erotic sound in his accent, and I turned toward his voice. He was in a booth in the corner, peeking around a tall menu in his hands. He lowered it, clearly surprised, but then he smiled and I wanted to smack him for how jittery that made me feel. His features were even more prominent in the low shadows of the restaurant. He looked even more dangerous. I walked to his table and ignored the way he moved over to let me in beside him. His hair was cut short and left longer on top. It fell forward when he moved and I wanted to reach out, see if it was as soft as it looked beneath the cone of overhead light. Damnit.
“I’m not here to join you,” I said, straightening my shoulders. “I just needed to get a few things straight.” He spread his palms out in front of him.
“By all means.” Taking a deep breath, I said, “I had the most fun I can reasonably remember with you at the club the other night—” shit I felt guilty after saying that. It was a dent in William’s personality because he was the best version of everything I had experienced with a man.
“Likewise.” I held up my hand.
“But I am here for business and so are you. We were both caught in the moment and that happened with Williams around. That wasn’t a license to throw it at him right in my face and that too with some important client. I can’t have you walking into an important meeting as such to spew so much rubbish or flirt with me. It was disrespecting my boss and I and next time I will not take it” I leaned forward and lowered my voice. “And I can’t believe you kept that video.”
He had the presence of mind to look contrite. “I’m sorry. But I don’t intend to delete it.” Leaning forward on his elbows, he said, “The thing is, I can’t seem to stop watching it. Watching that is better than a shot of fucking whiskey for my nerves. Better than even the filthiest porn.” A low hum spread through my belly and between my legs. “And I suspect that you like hearing that. I also suspect that you don’t have issues with me inserting my finger in your cunt while in a meeting and lastly, is suspect that you like it”
“You suspect wrong. I don’t like any of it. No regrets about the sex but if we must keep fucking each other you must learn to respect me” I shook my head. “If not, I won’t do this.” What the fuck are you saying, Margaret? Can you hear yourself speak? My subconsciousness shot at me embarrassed at her puny I sounded. It was like I was spelled. I was acting like some goddamn vegetable in Raymond’s presence and I didn’t exactly know why.
“This,” he said, “is simply a meal. Sit down with me.” I didn’t move.
“Come on.” He sighed quietly. “You let me fuck you on Saturday, you put my hand beneath your clothes a few minutes ago, and now you won’t join me for dinner. Do you always make a point of being so confusing?”
“Ray”
“Maggie” I hesitated for a long beat before I slid into the booth beside him, and felt the radiating warmth of his long, solid frame next to me.
“You look beautiful,” he said. I looked down at the simple black dress I wore. My bare legs peeked out below the hem and just above the knees. He ran a finger from my shoulder to my wrist and my bare skin broke out in gooseflesh. I fucking hate that I was behaving like a vegetable. What annoyed me most was that I wasn’t sure why I was acting that way. It was both confusing and annoying. I rubbed my temples as I felt myself getting a migraine.
“I won’t do that at any of our subsequent meetings with an audience around,” he said, so quietly I had to lean a little closer to hear him. “But I do want to fuck you again with the thought of getting watched.”
I shook my head, staring at his long fingers on me. “I don’t think that would be a good idea. No audiences” When the waiter stopped at our table, Raymond’s fingers lingered on my hand, and when I was unable to think of anything to order, he chose meals for both of us.
“I hope you like pasta,” he said, grinning.
“I do.” His hand on mine, his leg so closely pressed to my thigh, what did I want? I didn’t want to be continually distracted by a force of energy like Raymond, but I remained unable to pull out of his orbit. I wanted to fuck him, yes, but just so I could get into his life properly and ruin him; carry out my revenge on him. These add-ons were confusing. I needed to get back on track “Sorry, I’m a little distracted.” His other hand crossed over his body and slipped below the table. I felt the light brush of fingers along my thigh.
“Distracted by me? Or by work?”
“At the moment, you. But I should be distracted by work because that is why I am here”
“You have plenty of time for that. Williams is not in a rush”
I leaned back to look at him. “Spying?”
“No need. He looks so collected and he has a knack for always taking his time” His fingers pushed the hem of my dress up higher, higher, higher to my hip bone. “This all right?” His accent dropped the last bit of his sentence into a whisper. It was more than all right, but my heart pounded with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. Once again, I was letting him completely take my reason away, hiding it in this dark corner where I couldn’t find it.
“We’re in a restaurant. I said no audiences”
“I know.” He slipped beneath the soaked lace of my panties and slid his fingers over my clit, dipping down into my wetness. “Good God, Maggie. I’d love to spread you on this table and have you for lunch.”
For a brief pulse, my skin ignited. “You can’t say things like that.”
“Why? We’re the only people in this place besides the waiter and the security guy outside. No one can hear me… that’s basically n audience”
“That isn’t what I meant.”
“I can’t say things like that because of what it does to you?” he asked.
I nodded, unable to say anything when he slipped two fingers into me. “We have maybe seven minutes before our food comes out. Think I could make you come that fast?” It wasn’t as if he didn’t already have two fingers deep inside me, but for some reason when he put it like that, I grew hyperaware of where we were. It was a torment: the knowledge of what I should do in a quiet restaurant like this— take in my surrounding, eat my food—and the desire to do something completely against my plans: have this man finger me where anyone could walk in and see for the third time in a row.