A Taste of Pleasure (11 page)

He reached over and pulled the comforter from the sofa.
He covered her as he held her securely in his arms, and they rested together in the silence. The storm had passed, in all its fury, and so had her internal whirlwind of emotion. She closed her eyes and recounted the moments of the evening. He was so wonderful. She snuggled deeper into the masculine spirit who now possessed her, and the world she knew changed again.

She awoke the next morning to the smell of breakfast and coffee. She found Max in the kitchen, cooking up French toast and bacon. He was a tangy dish of masculinity with a side of softness that warmed her heart. The aroma was intoxicating, and the food was delectable as she licked the syrup from her hand while eating the wonderful toast.

He let her know that he had fixed the generator, and reports on the news said that power should be restored to the area in just a few hours. His cab arrived and she walked him to the door. He kissed her long and passionately before they parted ways. He said he would call her soon. She wasn't so sure, and her heart ached as soon as the taxi drove out of sight.

A few weeks later, she still hadn't heard from Max or Deacon. She went to the computer to see if Deacon was logged on. He wasn't. She had not talked with him in such a long time, and she was getting worried. As she dressed for work, she thought about the trip to England that she had planned, but only in her mind. She wasn't sure that he would welcome a surprise visit. She was concerned that he might actually feel invaded by her unexpected presence. She slipped into a long, slim-fitting black pencil skirt with a tight-fitting black cashmere sweater, belted at the waist. She complemented the ensemble with a cottony plaid scarf and high-heeled black boots. She slipped into her long, black double-breasted trench coat and headed out for work, feeling sexy, cozy, and shielded from the elements of the pending wintry weather.

When she arrived at the office, the meeting room was ready and waiting. The silver refreshment cart was stocked with chilled bottled waters and various refreshments, along with a lavish display of scrumptious fresh fruits, luscious Danish pastries, and assorted delights. The conference table was set with tablet computers, along with notepads and pens for those who still preferred to write notes during the meetings. The agenda indicated that this was a special meeting to introduce a new partner to the law firm, and his identity had not yet been revealed. London snacked on mouthwatering berries and raspberry Danish as she selected a bold brew from the numerous flavored beverages in the carousel tower. She poured her daily cup of java and mixed it sweet and creamy, inhaling the heavenly aroma.

The door swung open and the suits marched in. She eyed them all. They looked like clones . . . all but one, that is.
Oh my God, what is he doing here?
she thought as Deacon sauntered into the room, looking stylish as ever in a black tailored suit with a thin white shirt and a gray and black hexagon-patterned tie. Mr. Jackson, senior law partner, stood proudly in front of his seat at the head of the table as he introduced Mr. Deacon Wayne and shared the news that he would now be assuming a role as partner handling international matters, a new branch of the firm.

The lawyers buzzed about, reaching over to extend congratulations and handshakes. Others stood and shuffled over to chat and get to know Deacon. Some of the gestures of support were sincere, others masked their annoyance with being introduced to a new partner as they were awaiting their own promotions. London went unnoticed, and none of them were aware that she was already acquainted with the new hire. The only new thing about Deacon to her was the absence of a
ring on his finger. She wondered what the deal was. What had happened to his wife? And when had he moved back to the States? She discarded her remaining morsels, poured another cup of coffee, and headed for the table.

The massive oblong walnut table held twenty-four chairs. A rare few paralegals had earned a seat at this discriminating table, but London was well-respected for her litigation experience and proficiency. She claimed the seat she had earned with dignity, and she now had to make an effort to maintain that dignity when she really wanted to run over to him and flood him with questions and kisses. She casually glanced at him and he glanced back, suppressing a smile.

The flurry of excitement in the room faded, deferring to the business agenda and the partner who now had the floor. Deacon sat, pretending to be fully attentive to the speaker, but really had his mind on London, who was trying not to appear flustered. He toyed with his pen, holding it straight up on the table and slowly sliding his fingers down, flipping it over, and repeating the motion. She got the message, and fortunately others in the meeting didn't notice. She watched, but attempted not to do so in an obvious way. When she squirmed in her seat a bit, he took it as a reply signal and then put the pen up to his mouth, gripping the tip in his teeth.

She began to tingle between her legs. She hungered for him. She was hypnotized by his seductive charm. His every move was sensual, his features magnificent—his eyes, his fingers, even his pen. That darn pen! She remembered his hands on her that same way and she wanted them on her now. She wanted to be that pen, and she envied it. She wanted his hands to be on her, touching her hotness like he did that pen, touching her wetness, fondling her, feeling her. She was overcome by her extraordinary appetite as it took on a mind of its own.
She wanted to escape, finding it difficult to remain calm in his presence, here among the rigid suits.

The meeting drew to a close. As the attorneys funneled out of the room, Deacon stayed behind. London strolled over to the refreshment cart, lingering, as he did, mixing up another cup of coffee. A few stragglers remained, but London and Deacon patiently waited them out. She snatched a big, juicy strawberry from the fruit platter and sucked and nibbled on the end of it as he looked on. She wrapped her lips around it, slipped the entire thing in her mouth, then pulled it back out.
Who's squirming now?
she snickered to herself.

The last of the clones found their way out and they were finally alone. She strutted over to the door, turned her back to it, and twisted the lock into place. She eyed Deacon with a menacing stare as she walked over to him, her eyes never leaving his. She eased herself up onto the table, adjusting her skirt and hiking it up a bit so that the side slit fell open, revealing her silky black thigh-high stockings. He caught his breath as he rolled back slightly in his chair, making room for her to slide directly in front of him. He moved back up toward her, almost touching her, but not quite. She knew his mouth was watering for a taste just as much as hers was. Her cashmere sweater plunged perfectly at her cleavage and the shoulder was beginning to slide down, revealing even more luscious skin. She tilted her head inquisitively and flipped her dark, beautiful locks to one side.

“Deacon, are you still married?” she inquired in her sweetest voice.

“When I was here with you for the merger, she found my laptop. Well, I had forgotten to erase our conversations. When I returned she had left me a note that she was filing for divorce. Just like that, it happened. I was neither disappointed nor
upset. But I rather wish I'd been brave enough to tell her the truth. I was shaken up and needed time to cope. I was overcome with guilt for breaking her heart and not taking care of our conversations, and for being with you. And even though our marriage had fallen apart, I did love her once.” London felt a bit ashamed of herself. She should've waited and invited him over for dinner to have this talk, but her impatience got the best of her.

“I wish you would have told me. You shouldn't have had to go through this alone.”

“I was in total shock. I blamed myself. I was lost in anguish and regret. I'm sorry for not letting you know, I just needed to be alone to have some time to think about the rest of my life.”

It occurred to London that they should leave the conference room and see who was around before they attracted attention and questions. The morning hour was getting late, and it seemed that most of their colleagues had left. They made small talk as they walked through the office, making sure they were alone.

“Deacon, may I show you where I work?” London said as he played along. Once behind her closed door, she asked: “And what did you decide about
the rest of your life
?” She wasn't sure she wanted to hear the answer.

“I'm still not sure. I just know that I'm glad to be here with you right now, and there's no place in the world I'd rather be.”

Her heart jumped and her skin tingled as his eyes smoldered again, drawing her in with their enchantment. He sat up as she leaned into a steamy kiss. He ran his hand up her thigh and rubbed the lacy tops of her thigh-highs, teasing the bare skin just above them. Her sex was aching for his hand to go just a bit farther, and she scooted toward him, but he eased his hand back. She saw that twinkle in his eye and knew the
game had begun. She leaned in for a deeper, more intensely passionate kiss as his hands moved toward her breasts, tugging at the sweater that invited him in. This time, she pulled back, grinning devilishly as she stood up. He gasped and almost spoke, but she bent toward him teasingly, still looking in his eyes and whispered, “Shh.”

She knelt before him, undid his belt, and unzipped his pants to release the bulge from its prison. Her taste buds still tingled from the strawberry and her lips were moist as she placed them on the tip, then slid them over his throbbing head. She licked it with such zest that his head fell back to rest against the chair and he let out a soft moan. She continued to suck and he almost erupted before he pulled her up and onto his lap. He was panting as she took hold of his erection and slid it inside her. She sat there for a moment, pushing all her weight onto him, straddling him with her wetness as she felt the tip go deep inside, then she rode him up and down. His hand massaged her button and she felt herself building up to an orgasm as he filled her with his hardness. Just as she was nearing her climax, he lifted her up anxiously.

She had him so hot that he displayed an aggression she hadn't seen in him before. He stood up abruptly, manhandling her as he turned her around toward the table. He was rapacious and almost barbaric as he hiked her skirt up to expose her fiery sex that awaited him. She was gasping as he bent her over, taking her from behind. She sprawled across the desk, her hair cascading over her as she bit her lip to keep from making a sound. He thrusted into her, his hands on her hips, and rode her hard and wild. They were restricted to silence, and it made them tremble harder than ever as they panted and struggled to refrain from screaming in ecstasy. She never wanted this feeling to end. She treasured the sensation just before an orgasm, and
the risky promiscuity, right here in their offices, escalated the intensity of the moment. He pounded and crashed into her. Their bodies collided in scorching obsession as they moaned softly into a bittersweet climax together.

Deacon's gentle nature returned immediately and he helped her up from the desk and stroked her hair back from her face. He smiled and they both laughed as she quickly adjusted her skirt and her just-fucked hair. He zipped up his pants and straightened his tie. They were overwhelmed by the intensity that had overcome them. He grabbed her in a warm embrace and held her as she buried her face into his neck, breathing in his delightful scent.

“Wow, London . . . baby, you always amaze me.”

“You beguile me, Deacon.”

“So, Ms. Shelby, was there something you needed?” he asked with a sigh, his voice taking on airs of nonchalance again as he released her.

“I got what I wanted. Thank you, sir. And there's more where that came from,” she retorted as she curtsied.

She hoped he would follow her up on the invitation as they made their way discreetly out of the building.

L
ondon was packing lightly for her first-class flight to France departing the following night on business for the firm. She was assigned to work on an international law agreement. She was proud of herself for not only being recognized for her skills but for representing her country at this conference.

She liked to travel, though it could be grueling at times. She grew tired of the monotony, lines for security, check-in and scanning, planning hotels, restaurants, bars, and mediocre food. She was now just plain tired. However, this time her mind was at least pacified by the delightful fact that she would be visiting France.

She was relieved to hear the announcement “Now boarding first-class passengers” for her flight. She went to her compartment and loaded her carry-on in the generous overhead space. She sat down in the window seat and waited for the other passengers to file through. She was a bit displeased as she would have preferred the aisle seat, but none were available.
At least there are fewer seats in first-class
, she thought, so she wouldn't have more than one passenger seated beside her.

She was excited to be flying on a new, state-of-the-art aircraft
with all the high-tech bells and whistles. The attendant delivered a preflight glass of wine to relax her before takeoff. She toyed with her personal onboard touch screen, reviewing first-class menu choices, available movie selections, and games. She tilted back in her cozy chair and gazed out the window into the sunset, watching the luggage carts and airport vehicles racing here and there as her thoughts drifted to Deacon. She felt someone next to her and turned to see who. It was Deacon. He was popping up everywhere in her work life now.

“Well, hello there, handsome.” She grinned. “Why didn't you tell me you were flying to France too?”

“Sorry, I didn't even know until late last night,” he explained as he stowed his carry-on. She settled in to read a book and sip her wine. He opened his newspaper and leafed through it, occasionally peering over it at her and her perky breasts. She had dressed for the trip in her wrinkle-free black silk skirt suit with thigh-high black stockings, but she had to have the three-inch black suede pumps, comfortable or not, as they made her luscious legs simply irresistible. She was so glad she'd chosen them now that Deacon was here. She felt sexy and she knew his desire was growing as she crossed her legs and eased back in her seat.