Authors: Linn Young
“No. No. I’ll take it.” Riley picked up the phone to her ear. “This is Riley.”
“Hello, Riley,” said Heron, the deep timber in his voice vibrating in her ear. “It’s Heron.”
“Yes, Joe told me you were on the line. What can I do for you?”
There was a pause from the other end. Then he said, sounding slightly amused, “I want to
see you tonight.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“I don’t care if it’s a good idea or not. I want to see you, and I want my hands on you,
and I want to taste you, and I want to be inside you. I want all of that, tonight. I waited three days
to call you.”
“Why did you wait?”
“I don’t really know. Mostly, I had a lot of work to do. Tonight’s the first night I’ve been
able to have a few hours of free time. I want to see you.”
Riley closed her eyes. “I don’t think so.”
There was a patient pause. Riley tried not to shiver, although she knew that Heron was
carefully calculating his move.
“I don’t think you understand, Riley. I want to see you again, and I have every intention
of doing so.”
Riley pressed her head against her hand, her eyes closed. It had been three days since that
night, and all that time, she had convinced herself that he wouldn’t call. Now, she was beginning
to realize that in assuming that, she had made a dreadful mistake. And she had a feeling that
somewhere, she had missed something, and she was going to have to quickly catch up.
“Look, this was just a one time thing between us. It should not have happened the first
time. Let’s just leave it at that…”
There was a soft laugh from the other end, sending a shiver down Riley’s spine. “You
should know by now, Riley, that I’m not a man who ever walks away from what he wants. And,
right now, I want you.”
“Why can’t you just walk away from this?”
“I’ve had the taste of you, and that taste is still in my mouth. And I’ve been inside that
tight little pussy of yours, and I want to feel you all around me again, especially when you come.
And I want to see that look in your eyes when you give your body to me, and when you feel me
spill inside you.”
“Please, don’t say those things to me,” Riley said with desperation, her breathing
becoming shallow, her body becoming heated.
“Why not?” Heron sounded a little amused. “It’s how it is for me.”
Riley shifted in her seat because the heat was beginning to pool in her loins. “If it’s a
mistress you want…”
“I don’t want a mistress, Riley. I want you. And I want you at my beck and call.”
“I’m no man’s whore.”
There was another soft, male laugh. “No? You were very willing to be in the past two
weeks. Every time you saw me coming, you shook that little tail of yours at me.”
“Well, that’s done.”
“No, it’s not done between us by far.”
Riley thought for a moment, desperate to gain some ground. “This thing between us, it
won’t last. It’s just…”
“Yes, what is it that is between us, Riley?”
“I don’t know. I can’t figure out what it is. It’s all so wrapped up in so much heat and
conflict. But it won’t last, because it’s just physical, Heron. It can’t.”
“I don’t care how long it lasts. I’m not ready to let it go, just yet, especially when I’ve
had a sample of your body.”
“Maybe I don’t want you, anymore, now that I’ve had you.”
“Then come down here and prove that to me, Little Pussy.”
“I have to think it over,” Riley stalled.
“In the meanwhile, I want you to come down to my penthouse tonight.”
“No, I can’t do that.”
“Then I’ll come up there.”
“No. I can’t, tonight.”
“Why not?”
“I just can’t, that’s all,” she tried to say firmly.
Heron was patient but still very insistent. “Then when?”
“I don’t know. I’ll have to let you know.”
“That’s not good enough, Riley. If not tonight, then tomorrow night.”
“Maybe. Remember I do have a business to run and you know I mostly work at nights, so
I don’t have a lot of evenings free.”
“Then make some of them free. I’m not willing to take whatever leftovers you can give
me.”
For some reason, Riley was compelled to capitulate to Heron’s unreasonable demand,
when she was normally strong willed and rarely bent to another when she didn’t want to.
“All…All right, I’ll try to get an evening free…”
“When,” came the quick demanding answer from Heron.
“I…I don’t know.”
“I want to see you tomorrow.”
So, she resorted to an act of desperation. “I have to think about it. Okay? That will have
to be good enough for now.” Riley quickly hung up, before Heron’s autocratic demands could
further break her down.
She dropped her face in both of her hands, panting into them, willing time to go back to
before the attraction between she and Heron had flared up, when they had been merely
antagonistic in-laws. She wondered how she ever let things get this far.
It was not that she feared the ramifications of having slept with a man for purely physical
attraction. She understood that and accepted it, because she knew it was perfectly normal for two
people to have sex without the complications of a relationship. It was just that entangling herself
to Heron Wait in any way was extremely dangerous. But she didn’t quite know yet why that
should be so. It could be that he could become very addictive for a woman, both in and out of
bed. What woman wouldn’t want to be with a man like Heron, be courted by him. Be able to
claim him as her own, be able to say to him as Gwyneth Paltrow had said to Jeremy Northrop in
the movie, “Emma,” “Now, I may call you my Mr. Knightly.” Being with a man like Heron
Wait, a woman could become so vulnerable that she craved to have the right to call him, “My
Mr. Wait.” He was about the most attractive man she had ever met, with a very powerful sexual
attraction. She understood why Roberta had been spellbound by him in the beginning.
What was I thinking, Riley thought, in pursing sex with him. And to complicate matters,
he was the brother-in-law of her sister. But she knew what she had been thinking when she had
first realized that she wanted to go to bed with Heron. In her mind, she had only zoomed in on
the fact that she wanted to have sex with him, and had treated her attraction as she had with any
other man she had wanted to sleep with, that it would have no complications, and probably for
just one night, and for fun. She took it for granted since both of them were adults and with good
experience in sexual relationships, that both would walk away from the evening as they had
walked in it; two separate beings, who are whole and intact, and pretty much unaffected by their
one sexual liaison. That’s pretty much how it had turned out whenever she engaged in brief
sexual relations with other men.
It had never occurred to her that Heron might want to continue their affair after one night.
And now that she was faced with that prospect, Riley had no idea how to proceed. And Heron
was refusing to give her time to think about it.
He wanted her at his beck and call. He wanted her to be his concubine or a courtesan. His
sexual play thing. Actually that was nothing new to Riley. For a time or two, she had let herself
be a sexual object for a man a brief time, a month or two months. It dad been enjoyable for both
parties, and after the passion had been spent, both amicably went their separate ways, neither
injured nor scarred.
But any woman with any kind of sexual experience knew that Heron Wait was one man
most women could not take as a lover so casually. He was too devastating in bed, and once she
was fucked by him, she would only crave more. Riley had proven that to herself only too well.
So, the only best course of action for any woman was to stay clear of Heron. She wished she had
realized that weeks earlier.
As it was, all that week, the club was packed so that she had to engage every one of her
employees to work extra shifts, including herself. Twice, she had to call in her supplier for more
alcohol and food to replenish her bar and kitchen, and then she and Joe had to spend several
hours restocking everything.
With great relief, Riley took refuge in the heavy workload to ignore Heron’s heavyhanded summon.
But everyday, she would get more than one message from Heron, all of which she did not
return. By the middle of the week, he had stopped all pretense of civility and politeness and left
short, pithy messages of threats and demands.
Then, after five days of receiving several calls from Heron, suddenly, they suddenly
stopped. At first, Riley felt relieved that he had finally given up and had realized that it was in
vain to try and pursue an affair with her. But on the third day of not getting a call from him, she
began to get nervous, especially when she realized that it wasn’t in Heron to give up and walk
away so blithely from something he had been so hellbent on. She began to be afraid that in not
calling her, he was only biding his time. And, somehow, Riley felt that to be more of a dangerous
sign than when he had been harassing her with calls.
Unnerved by the silence of those calls, she picked up the phone and dialed his cell phone.
“This is Wait,” a deep and very curt voice answered on the other line.
For a few seconds, Riley could not speak. Although she opened her mouth but no words
came out.
Heron became, as was his nature, impatient. “Hello, there.”
“Hello, Heron.”
There was silence, a coolly detached silence.
“It’s Riley, Heron.”
“Yes, I know.”
Riley felt like a very young, very gauche teenager who was asking a boy out on a first
date. “I’ve decided to call you.”
“Yes, I see that.”
There was another unnerving silence.
She asked lamely, “How…How are you?”
“I’m fine. Are you calling to tell me you can take a night off?”
Riley fidgeted in her seat. She had only meant to call Heron to ease her apprehension at
his sudden cessation of phone calls. She had not intended to agree to see him.
Then, suddenly, she realized that she did want to see him. Just hearing his imperious tone
made her remember how he had used that same tone as he held his hand out to her in a
command, and it had made her juices heat up.
“I think I can take tonight off. If you like.”
There was another cool pause. “Alright. Come up to my penthouse at eight thirty.”
“I’ll try.” Riley waited for half a minute for his answer. When there was none, she
frowned. “Hello?” No answer. “Heron, are you still there.”
The dead dial tone came on, making her realize that he had hung up her.
For a panic moment, she picked up the phone again, intending to cancel the evening with
Heron. Then she put the phone back in its cradle. Why add a cowardly act on top of a cowardly
act which was on top of a rash one?
She lowered her forehead to her folded hands on top of the desk. God help her, she was
losing it. With Heron Wait, she didn’t know whether she was coming or going.
Despite serious misgivings over the evening, Riley thought it would be prudent to dress
for her meeting with Heron that was a bit more sedate than what she had worn for him before.
She chose to where a long slim black skirt in fine wool gabardine that stopped just below her
knees. Topping the skirt was a crisp white shirt that she left unbuttoned almost down to her belly,
revealing a blood-red demi push up bra in French lace, exposing her breasts that were lifted into
two gorgeous mounds. On her feet, she wore black platforms in black silk satin, with long, long
ties that wound and wound around her ankles and tied in bows.
Riley had just put on her make up when at seven thirty, her doorbell rang. Through her
peephole, she saw a man in a chauffeur suit, and behind him alongside the curb was a long black
limousine.
“Good day, Ms. Calderon,” the chauffeur greeting with a small elegant bow when she
opened the door. “I’m Dustin, Mr. Wait’s driver.”
“What are you doing here?” she asked inconsequentially.
Dustin gave a small professional tip of his head. “I have been instructed to drive you to
Mr. Heron’s penthouse.”
“There was no need for that. I had planned on driving myself…”
“Mr. Heron insisted.”
Taken aback but seeing that she had little choice, Riley grabbed her coat and followed
Dustin to the car.
He ushered her into a long seat inside the limousine. “To the right of you, Ms. Calderon,
is a button. If you wish to have a drink, just push the button and a small bar will be pulled out. If
there isn’t anything in there that is to your taste, please let me know and I can stop at a nearby
store. Also, to your left against the side is a refrigerator. If you are hungry there are some
sandwiches, fruit, chilled shrimp and scallop with cocktail sauce, and cold chicken, roast beef,
and salami. If there is anything you need, just let me know.”
Riley looked around the sumptuous interior. “It’s all rather intimidating. Is there anything
you can do for that?”
Dustin blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
She shook her head. “Never mind. No, I’m fine.”
The ride to Heron’s penthouse took over an hour and a half due to the evening rush hour
traffic.
Heron’s penthouse was near Nob Hill, high up on the top floor of a twenty-floor luxury
apartment high rise. Riley rode Heron’s private elevator up the eighteenth floor to his penthouse.
When the doors parted, a small, wiry man with a bald head and a neatly and closely trimmed
goatee, dressed in an old fashion morning suit gave a slight bow of his head.
“Good evening, Ms. Calderon. Welcome to Mr. Wait’s home. I am his manservant. My
name is Canton. I am completely at your service.”
Riley gave a dry smile more from nervousness than anything else. “Well, your duties will
be quite easy tonight, because I have no idea what to do with a servant. –Is Heron here?”
“No. He is running a little late at the office. I am to show you to Mr. Wait’s private
quarters on the top floor. If you’ll allow me, let me take you up there in the elevator.
As they rode up in the elevator, Canton, like a very well-trained guide, gave a short
overview of Heron’s penthouse. His unit did not take up so ostensibly the entire two top floors as
many wealthy bachelors’ pads were known to do. Instead, the apartment took up a modest corner
section of the last four floors. The top floor was his private quarters consisting of a sprawling
master bedroom that overlooked the entire city with an excellent view of the Golden Gate
Bridge, a sitting room, bathroom, and a large walk in closet. The next floor consisted of three
guest bedrooms with their own bathrooms, private bar, sitting room, a communal parlor, small
entertainment room with a sixty-inch flat screen, and a library. The next floor dominated by a
cavernous entrance hall that led to a comfortable living room that was sunken by a few steps and
was afforded again with a its own breathtaking view of the city by two partial walls of windows.
Also on this floor, was the formal dining area, another large parlor, a large professional kitchen,
and Herons’ private den. The last floor, which Canton incongruously called the “ground floor,”
was the laundry room, and two private, very spacious quarters for the three servants; Canton and
Dustin who shared his quarters with his wife, Heidi, who was the housekeeper. Canton was the
overall manager of the penthouse and personal assistant to Heron.