Upside Down (4 page)

Although it
was Mark who was doing that to me with three wicked fingers inside my trembling flesh and his delicious tongue, all I saw was a certain blonde. I gasped and cried out when a massive climax hit me. I clenched my inner walls, gripping Mark’s hand, as his tongue flicked over my clitoris. I writhed on the bed and wailed as loud as I could. My throat got sore. All my muscles tensed up then relaxed again sending a sweet feeling of release through my body as they did so. I felt faint when countless waves of pleasure rose up and washed over me threatening to drown me in that sea of lust Mark had created around us. My whole body trembled as shivers ran up and down my spine. My breathing was elaborate and I whimpered as Mark sat me up on the bed and held my convulsing body against his own. His attempt to soothe me was sweet but not very effective because my whole frame shook. Not in a bad way at all, though. I hadn’t had such an earth-shattering orgasm in ages. I ran a hand up and down his back and cupped his cheek with the other one. I stared into his gorgeous eyes then kissed him softly on the lips. It was almost chaste but my taste was still strong on his mouth and I smiled against it.

“Thank you, Mark. I needed this so badly
.”

H
e moved me up the bed and settled my sated body down on the pillows, gently. I fell asleep at once, dreaming of Cindy’s soft body pressing against mine.

* * * *

When I woke up, I was alone in the hotel suite. Mark had already returned to the office. I didn’t mind it. I preferred it that way and he knew it. You must remember I said my relationships were strictly sexual. No strings attached, no emotions involved. It was easier to keep them like that if I slept alone. It was as simple as that. Even when he came over to my apartment, I never let him stay the night. We didn’t have a romantic relationship. I didn’t want that. I didn’t need that complication. He was an interesting guy with whom I had sex with. That was all.

That was why I ignored the little pang I felt in the pit of my stomach
as I stretched my body under the sheets. Certainly, the bed seemed empty because it was bigger than I had thought. It had nothing to do with waking up alone in it. I lay flat on my back and relived my encounter with Mark. Staring at the ceiling, I remembered how much pleasure he had given me, so selflessly. He had always been a generous lover. I had to give him that. He was a willing submissive when we role-played and a caring, eager-to-please lover when we had sex.

However, I
couldn’t shake off the feeling that there had been something disturbing in the way I had climaxed fantasizing about the new girl. I’d never been with a woman, not even during my years in the Catholic boarding school I went to in Boston. I turned around and buried my head under the pillows. “What is going on then?” I asked myself and tried to figure out an answer. I had never had this kind of reaction to a woman either.

I
t would have been understandable if I had done so during college. People experiment all kinds of things when they leave home for the first time. And that would have been even expected from me. I had lived a very sheltered life until I finished high school. I was an only child to very wealthy but absent parents. They had sent me to boarding school to protect me because they were never around. When I went away to Harvard I could have tried to make up for all the things I had lost. Only, I didn’t. I guess my nose was too deep inside the books to pick up on anything else going on around me. I got annoyed by the loud parties my colleagues threw because they disturbed my concentration. I was a nerd like that.

Now,
I was caught off guard by these confusing, yet amazing feelings and sensations. I had always liked rough sex. I had had my own long list of nameless, hot boy-toys I used, from time to time, to fulfill my needs. I had never cared for the vanilla sort of sex so I had never expected to be excited merely thinking about the female softness of Cindy’s perfect body. I was also intrigued by what I then thought had been a vision of her standing by the door.

“
What is wrong with me?”

Unfortunately, I d
idn’t have much time left to deal with all that so I jumped off the bed, took a quick shower and returned to the office. Whatever had happened in that hotel room seemed irrelevant because I got the satisfaction I had been craving.

“I’ll think about it tomorrow
,” I said to myself much like Scarlett O’Hara, in
Gone with the wind
, would have done.

* * * *

W
hen the next day came, I had already forgotten all about the new receptionist. So, I went about my routine as usual – jogging, breakfast, work. I had an early meeting so I missed Cindy’s first-day tour of the premises. In fact, I didn’t really miss it. It was just that I forgot about that. I had a lot on my plate as it was. That week the stock market took a steeper nosedive, companies were going up in smoke and I didn’t have time to think about anything other than business problems and survival strategies. In the middle of all the chaos that Wall Street had become, I was still able to make money. It is possible to make a profit even during the worst part of a crisis like that one if you buy and sell the stocks at the right time.

Let
me try to explain that to you. When a person analyzes the NYSE chart, of any particular stock, after the trading session is over, it’s very clear that there are peaks of high prices that will allow a person to make tons of money. But only if they buy the shares when the price is at its lowest, then, wait for that moment when the price is at its highest to sell them. Problem is - when you are in the middle of the trading session, you have no idea which way the stocks will go – up or down or sideways. Also, you don’t know if and when those peaks will come by. It’s a lot like a casino and just as addictive. It’s a rush and I feel I’m gambling most of the time. Although I have a pretty high winning rate, as Mark had put it, trading sessions are always tiring, adrenaline pumps through my veins throughout it all and I feel physically exhausted at the end of each session. It is very hard work. Still, some people say I’m successful because I have sold my soul to the Devil. Others say, I deceived the Prince of Darkness into striking a deal with me because I didn’t have a soul to begin with. Either way, I just laugh at this nonsense.

T
he financial crisis wasn’t helping things out for me back then. I needed all my strength and focus to get by each day. So, I thanked God for having Mark around because he was always two steps ahead of everybody else; tending to every little thing I needed, before I knew I needed anything. While I worked hard, from early morning to late night, he was around helping me directly with my workload, checking up on me, making sure I had food and all the other things I would have forgotten otherwise. He was the best assistant I had ever had and one of the best lovers, too. He was thoughtful, caring, hot as sin, and he knew what he was doing - both at the office and in bed. That’s why I asked him to come over to my apartment a couple of times over the following days. Whatever little time I had left for myself, we spent together. It wasn’t much but we had fun.

As the days went
by in that chaotic rhythm, I didn’t have time for much else. Especially not for the new receptionist who I just greeted politely, but coldly, on my way in or out of the office. So, I was taken by surprise when I passed the reception counter, one morning, and Cindy signaled me to stop.

“Ms. Sullivan, wait up!
Please,” she almost shouted.

I stopped in my tracks, turned around and sto
od in front of her.

“Is there something wrong, Ms…,” I wasn’t pretending. I had forgotten her
surname.

“Cindy
. You can call me, Cindy. There’s nothing wrong,” she gave me a bright smile and cocked her head to one side before going on. “It’s just that I’ve been working here for over two weeks now and I haven’t had a chance to talk to you again. You are always rushing in or out.”

I
stomped a foot in frustration but took a deep breath to control my anger before saying anything. I wasn’t famous for my patience and if it had been any other person I would have slashed out without thinking twice. But she
was
new to the company. I needed to remember that. Besides, I had remembered her surname, all of a sudden, along with other things, so my voice was very cold when I spoke.

“I don’t have time for idle chat,
Miss
O’Rourke. As you so well pointed out – I’m always rushing around. I do that because I have a lot of work. So, if you excuse me,” I turned to go on my way to the staff meeting but she held my arm.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Sullivan,
” she kept her hold of my arm even when I frowned at her. “I didn’t mean to distract you from your work or take time away from your busy schedule. I just wanted to tell you how much I appreciated the chance you’ve given me to work here. I’ve learned more here, over these past weeks, than I did in my first year at Columbia.”

She let go of my arm but I stood there for a few seconds after she finished speaking. If I had been honest with myself I would have
admitted I felt uncomfortable because of her unexpected touch and the hurt in her voice. Instead, I told myself I felt embarrassed because I had treated her rudely.

“I’m sorry, Ms. O’Rourke. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like
I did. It’s just that things have been crazy lately. I’m tired but that’s no excuse for being mean. I’m glad you feel that way about working here. And feel free to tell me if you need anything.”

“I will
,” she replied promptly and the bright, wide smile was back on her face making me doubt if the hurt I had just heard in her voice was real.

Before I turned around to head back to the conference room, I
thought I saw her winking at me. I chose to ignore that instead of clarifying the issue, shook my head and went inside the room where my staff had been waiting for me to start our meeting.

“Good morning, everyone
,” I greeted before apologizing. “I’m sorry I kept you waiting. Mark, what’s the agenda today?”

I put Ms. O’Rourke out of my mind
to concentrate on the serious matters on the agenda but some disturbing sensations lingered. Once more, I decided to ignore them and this time the international crisis helped me a great deal with that.

But putting Ms. O’Rourke
completely out of my mind proved to be harder than I had imagined. The following days made that very clear. Every time I passed by her counter, I had the distinct feeling she was flirting with me. It made me uncomfortable but I couldn’t do much about the discomfort because I wasn’t sure of her behavior. It wasn’t anything out in the open, it was rather subtle and discreet and I could easily have misjudged her intentions. Also, I didn’t know her well enough to distinguish the way she treated me from the way she treated others. For instance, she used to greet me with a wide smile, cocking her head to one side. Whenever I had to stop by the counter, she would cross her arms under her breasts and lean on the counter to talk. That movement would bring the neckline of her uniform blouse lower exposing a large expanse of her chest to anyone standing opposite the counter. She also had the annoying habit of touching me whenever she was talking to me or standing by. I never liked people doing that to me.

I decided to
talk to her about such behavior but first I would pay more attention to her interactions with the rest of the staff in order to avoid being unfair or judging her with haste. In hindsight, maybe that was one of my biggest mistakes. Starting to pay attention to Ms. Cindy O’Rourke at all, I mean. She was extraordinary in many senses. She had a contagious sunny disposition of which her bright, wide smile seemed to be an essential part. She welcomed everyone with one of those grins – from maintenance staff to delivery people to clients and celebrities. Everybody who crossed the office’s door was greeted with the same level of grace and attention. As for touching people when talking, she seemed to do that to everybody. She was just one of those people and since I didn’t like being touched like that I figured the discomfort I felt was my own fault. I wasn’t able to confirm the leaning on the counter thing, though. My observations were inconclusive. Sometimes, I thought I saw her leaning on the counter to talk to Mark, for example. Other times, she would be standing straight as a lamp post when talking to another person. At the end of a week, I decided to drop the whole thing.

Still, having watch
ed her over those days made me aware of things I would come to regret later. Every time I saw Mark and Cindy talking, I felt a stab of something very unpleasant that I couldn’t label or didn’t want to look into carefully enough. The same wouldn’t happen if I saw her talking to another person. I had never felt anything like that regarding Mark before. I was intrigued but told myself I didn’t have time to worry about it. Again, I put it aside and moved on with my life.

At least, I
tried to do that. But, for the first time, I would find myself daydreaming in the middle of a trading session. I would stare at my computer screen and see nothing. Not to mention the strange dreams I started having then, too. During the day, flashes of those dreams would pop up in my head, out of the blue, distracting me from whatever I had been doing or saying. Other times, during a particularly dull meeting, for example, my mind would drift off and I would lose my train of thought. I’m sure people noticed but nobody said anything to me. Almost nobody, that is. One evening, Mark and I were the last two people left in the office. We had just finished preparing a presentation for a client when I stood up, stretched and yawned, as my computer shut down. Mark looked worried.

“What’s wrong, Mark?
Have we forgotten something?”

“No, the meeting will be fine. I’m worried about you. You haven’t been
yourself lately.”

“Oh, sweetie, are you upset because we haven’t been together this week?
” I ran a hand over his forearm and squeezed him lightly. “I’m sorry. We have worked so hard that I’m always beat at the end of the day. I’ll tell you what - let’s have dinner tomorrow night at my place. I’ll make it up to you for all this lost time. How about that?”

“That sounds like a plan but I didn’t mean that.
You have been acting weird like you aren’t focused, you know? You stop talking in the middle of a sentence; then, you can’t finish it, for example. I’ve never seen you act like that. What’s going on?”

I felt tempted to open up to him, to tell him about the disturbing dreams I had had and the strange signs I
had picked up from Ms. O’Rourke. I opened my mouth to say those things but for some unknown reason I changed my mind.

“There’s nothing wrong, Mark. I’m just tired. That’s all
,” I said as I turned away to grab my purse and go home, effectively avoiding eye contact.

He didn’t seem convinced when he
stood in front of me, framed my face in his big hands and stared into my eyes as if looking for the truth. “You know I’m here for you, right? No matter what, you can always count on me.”

When
I just nodded in reply, he planted a soft kiss on my lips, ran a thumb over them and let go of me, still frowning. I thought that kind of worry and care on Mark’s part didn’t suit our ‘no-strings-attached’ type of relationship and I wasn’t sure I liked it. But, it was too late and I was too tired to argue so we left the conference room in silence and were waiting for my private elevator when Mark turned to me.

“Did you mean it?
About dinner tomorrow?”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” I sounded distracted even to myself so
it wasn’t any surprise to see his frowning expression when I looked up at him as we stepped into the elevator. “Mark, for heaven’s sake, stop worrying! Tomorrow’s fine! We are fine!
Everything is fine
!” my voice grew louder as I grew angrier.

“That’s more like it. Now you sound like yourself
again,” he laughed and winked at me ignoring my murderous stare.

I rolled my eyes but
I got the joke and laughed at it before putting my hands on the mirrored wall beside his head and pressing my lower body against his groin. His eyes turned dark and he stopped laughing at once.

“So, I a
m myself only when I’m a bitch. Is that what you mean, pet?”

Neither one of us spoke but our
bodies talked loudly enough. His breathing became heavier, there was a vein throbbing in his neck, and I was sure he could see my nipples pressing my blouse and felt my heart beating fast inside my chest.

I leaned close
r, never letting go of his stare, but stopping my mouth an inch or so before touching his lips. I didn’t want to kiss him because I knew my control was hanging by a thin thread, too. I just wanted to tease him, to give him something to look forward to until our dinner the next night. That’s why I smiled wickedly when the elevator reached the ground level and the beep sounded loud as the door opened.

“Saved by the bell,” I
purred, bit his chin then left the elevator without looking back.

I
took a cab home because my car was in the repair shop. When I got there, I prepared a relaxing bath, with soothing music and candles, because I needed it badly. I had avoided Mark’s questioning but I couldn’t deceive my own conscience. He was absolutely right. I had been acting out of character but I had told him the truth - part of it, anyway. I was exhausted. I didn’t tell him, though, that I was tired because I hadn’t slept well in over a week. And I wasn’t ready to confess to Mark, or to anyone else for that matter, that I wasn’t sleeping well because I had been having strange, sensual dreams about a person I never saw clearly. And not knowing who the person in those dreams was, disturbed me to no end. I stepped into the bathtub, sat down, leaned my head back, closed my eyes and let the hot water caress my skin. I wanted to soak in for a while and not think about anything – no crisis, no clients, no overprotective assistants, no overfriendly receptionists. And I did exactly that for the next twenty minutes.