Okay, okay, I know I haven't updated in quite a while. This is because of two reasons: there were many changes going on in my personal life and I lost the 'essence.' You know, that special thing that brings out the best writing in an author. Well, I temporarily lost that and I absolutely refuse to write and publish anything that feels off. Goes against my morals or something. So I'm publishing this in order to regain my 'essence' so I can be my best when it comes to OMR. Yes, yes, I haven't forgotten about my little baby. But in the meantime, enjoy this short, romantic interlude.
Email: [email protected]
Disclaimer: I only claim rights to this story and the lovely Keira Jones. All remaining characters belong to their rightful owner.
Champagne
"And here you are, Mr. Celestano," an extraordinarily curvy secretary sashayed in, and with a flutter of her voluminous eyelashes, deposited a packet of papers into the 'In' bin. Barely restraining a disgusted snort, Lita watched as her business partner, Nephrite, positively ogled the oh-so divine Miss Kiera Jones, the self appointed seductress of the company. There must be some sorts of dress code against that, she decided, eying the shockingly short, black skirt and the clingy, V-neck blouse with absolute distaste.
"Thank you, Miss Jones."
"At your service." Giggling huskily, Office Doll Barbie smiled slowly, allowing the full meaning of her words to hang thickly in the air. With a swing of her hips, she strolled out.
"No wonder there are so many rumors circulating about that woman," she remarked, staring after the doorway.
"I can only wish half of them are true," joked her associate, shaking himself out of his hormonal stupor.
"You're pathetic. That woman would roll in the sack with anything remotely male, you realize that?"
"You shouldn't be so judgmental, Miss McConnell."
"You shouldn't be so easily controlled by your hormones, Celestano," she sweetly retorted. Shaking her head with apparent disapproval, she straightened her frumpy, ankle length skirt and returned her attention to the sheet in her hand. "Back to business."
"As usual."
Lita shot him a warning look before returning to her papers. "Mr. Fahrs wants us to wrap up the business negotiations with Biotech, Inc soon."
"I second that, I'm getting quite tired of laughing at those overstuffed CEOs' horrible jokes."
"Cry me a river, Celestano. Maybe we could further persuade them through another business meeting."
"Another opportunity to don those revealing dresses that flatter your attributes?"
She frowned at his sarcastic jab. He was perfectly aware that she dodged anything that could even be slightly revealing. "I could gladly knock you senseless right now, but unfortunately, I have matured past that. But if need be, I could always raid Miss Jones' closet."
"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were jealous," with a small, knowing smile, Nephrite swiveled in his chair, muscular arms crossed over his wonderfully broad chest, and tilted his head questioning up at her.
"Huh?" Fighting a blush when his chocolate brown eyes settled on hers intently, she sputtered, gestured wildly, and flounced to the door. A hand on her hip, the brunette turned and declared, "That's ridiculous. I am not jealous!"
"I could understand how you could be; she is outrageously pretty, with a perfect figure to boot. And," he smiled mischievously, "she did manage to capture my attention."
"Exactly what are you trying to say?" Lita ground out through gritted teeth, although she was all too aware of he was implying. "Listen, Celestano, I could care less of who you entertain, or try to, that is. Unlike Miss Jones, I prefer to exude a bit more modesty."
"That is quite obvious," his gaze flickered down to her dowdy long skirt and drab blazer, resting a few more, uncomfortable seconds on her heaving breasts.
"Impressing you is the least thing on my mind, remember that. I'm scheduling that business meeting tomorrow evening. Talk to my secretary or call my cell phone for more information. Try to act older than a fifteen year old boy, Celestano."
Not paying the slightest bit attention to an alarmed blonde she broad sided on her way to the bathroom, Lita stormed inside and gripped the counter.
That egotistical, self centered male whore. Exactly who did he think he was, picking apart her outfits and making preposterous claims?!
She never wanted to be partnered with the company playboy/jerk. His ego was more than sufficient for the both of them; in fact, she grew quite annoyed with his arrogance. It was even more irritating whenever he made any…sexual implications.
"I hate him, I hate him!" she shrieked at her reflection. There was absolutely no reason for her to be jealous of Kiera, it wasn't like she was horrid looking. A bit tall perhaps, maybe her long, mahogany mane and chestnut eyes were a bit common and boring, and she had to confess that her figure wasn't exactly slender (her friends often claimed it was pure 'woman'), but still…he was nothing overly special himself!
Although he did have great, strong shoulders. And a really nice butt.
"You're pathetic."
"That you are," a new voice noted with dripping sarcasm. Lita averted her gaze to a smugly smiling Kiera Jones, her slender arms crossed over her round breasts, her loincloth skirt riding even more ridiculously high on her stocking thighs. She was every man's fantasy, and every attached woman's nightmare.
The trashy tramp.
"What do you want?"
"You're so obvious, sometimes I have to laugh," Kiera strode forward, her snakeskin heels clipping against the tile floor.
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"Your silly little infatuation with Nephrite, of course."
"You're not only easy, but you're delusional as well."
"You want him real bad, don't you? Well, unfortunately, he pursues women with a bit more…," she sardonically inspected her plain ensemble with unmasked aversion, "taste."
"And that includes you?"
"Oh yes, that definitely includes me."
"Funny, then he must also pursue women with much less…," Lita mimicked her actions to perfection, "class."
"You must think you're very clever."
"Don't you have to be somewhere? Like in some janitor's closet screwing the next rumored vice president?" Lita threw the question over her shoulder while she confidently swaggered out of the bathroom, a grin blossoming over her features when she heard her dear, dear friend's stammers.
That trashy, classless tramp.
She confidently sauntered to the table, tossing her luscious auburn waves behind an exposed, creamy shoulder. All conversation throughout the entire restaurant hushed, and that included a particularly arrogant, sex driven bastard named Nephrite Celestano.
With a glamorous smile, she murmured in a husky, appealing voice, "Evening, gentlemen." Without losing a beat, she seductively approached her business partner, lifted a smooth leg so that her knee was lodged precariously close to his groin, and whispered against his quite delicious looking mouth, "Not so frumpy now, am I?"
Running a single finger up his muscular thighs, she smiled slightly at his appreciative groan. Angling her face so that their lips were mere breaths apart, she inquired sensually, "Do you want me, Nephrite?"
Yep, she had imagined that routine for about the umpteenth time. Unfortunately, each ended with either her slipping off the chair, or Nephrite bursting into hysterical laughter at her complete lack of sexual appeal. Lita shook her head at her cowardice, reminding herself that there was no reason for feeling self conscious.
She never felt more naked than when she just popped out of her mother's womb, and even then, she was covered in placenta.
It wasn't that the dress was trashy. The champagne silk was purposefully draped so loosely across her shoulders that it appeared that at any moment the thin straps would slip off her soft shoulders. The cocktail gown molded tightly to her round breasts, but fluidly slid across her narrow waist and womanly hips. The hem brushed against her knees, swirling temptingly whenever she dared to walk on her matching, champagne heels.
She knew the dress accentuated her forest green eyes, tanned skin, and vibrant auburn hair. However, she had no idea how to properly balance herself on her heels.
Meanwhile, the men were waiting for her arrival, and from the looks of Nephrite's strained smile, they wanted business to commence.
This meant she had to proverbially roll her cowardice into a ball and toss it into the closet. Fear of collapsing stupidly on her face and all.
"Oh boy," Lita muttered to herself as she wobbled uneasily on the heels, but managed to finally approach the table without stumbling once. The first step for a recovering frump, not tripping when walking in heels, of course, was met. "Good evening Mr. Deatly, Mr. Witmer, Mr. Celestano."
For a moment, there was a moment of particularly stunned silence. The two 'overstuffed' CEOs gawked openly, which wasn't particularly pleasant. Her gaze slid nervously to her partner, who merely returned it with a raised, questioning eyebrow. Still not breaking his intense eye contact, he slowly sipped his wine glass.
"I think we can all agree that Miss McConnell looks quite lovely," Nephrite dolefully declared, lifting his goblet as if to congratulate her transformation.
"Lovely doesn't do you justice, Miss McConnell. You look beautiful," Mr. Deatly, perhaps a bit too frisky at his wizened age, eagerly clasped her hand. Smiling brightly, Lita reddened and shyly laughed at the compliments.
"I don't recall seeing you with your hair down, but those waves are perfection," Mr. Witmer admired, following the waterfall of her cascading locks down to the swell of her full breasts. "Thank you, sir that is very considerate of you."
With fluid grace that she envied, Nephrite rose to his feet and wordlessly assisted her into her chair. Although he commonly displayed such manners, such as opening doors, paying for lunch, they never failed to surprise her.
"I'm sorry to keep you waiting, traffic was terrible. Have you gentlemen ordered yet?" she questioned, running her fingers through her waves self consciously.
"Of course not, we've been waiting for your arrival, Miss McConnel," interjected Mr. Witmer, touching her hand briefly as he beamed at her.
"Why, thank you, sir! Honestly, your manners never stop to amaze me." "So, Mr. Witmer and Mr. Deatly, have you reconsidered the negotiations?" Nephrite suddenly interrupted his tone undeniably brisk. Surprised, Lita glanced hastily at her partner, wondering why suddenly of all the moments to socialize, he chose this one moment to be all business. Men, such odd creatures.
"I'm sure business can wait until after we order dinner, Nephrite. I'm positively starving," she soothed the silence, casting him a discreet, reproving glance from behind the protective shield of her menu. It was terrible etiquette to open discussions before the waitress even appeared at the table.
He should have known better.
"Yes, thank you so much for tonight. I hope you enjoyed the dinner," Lita called after the retreating backs of the CEOs. She giggled slightly when poor Mr. Deatly, a bit tipsy, blew her a heapful of drunken kisses.
"I must say, you stole the show tonight," a velvety baritone interrupted her musing laughter. Lifting her eyes to collide against the cool, chocolate brown ones, she shrugged her creamy shoulders carelessly.
"The night was a success, that's all that matters." When he remained silent, but ever watchful with those piercing brown eyes nearly burning hot holes into her skin, she sighed, "Better start heading home, it's getting a bit late."
"Why the dress, Miss McConnell?" he suddenly questioned. Startled, she actually flinched.
"Just felt like dressing differently, I suppose. What's wrong, even I can't act feminine for once, Celestano?" she sarcastically retorted.
"I would have never guessed that you'd manipulate men with your...assets."
Casting him a deathly glare, she bit out, "I did nothing inappropiate, Celestano. If the dress did make a difference, then fine. But I did not compromise my morals in the process."
His enigmatic silence enraged her.
"Don't worry I'll be right back in those dowdy suits once we return to work tomorrow."
The nerve of the bastard. He couldn't even spare a single compliment, he couldn't even allow a 'you look rather nice.' She certainly wasn't expecting worshipful kisses, not that she wanted them from Nephrite, mind you, but she was at least hoping for the slightest warmth.
"I do believe it's too late," he murmured silkily, following her as she quickly shuffled to retrieve her coat. Startled once again when he held open the folds of lavish silk, she suspiciously slid her arms into each hole.
Warm breath wafted against her ear, and tantalizing spasms of delight coursed through her rigid body. "I know exactly what you're trying to do, you little minx."
"What are you talking about, Nephrite?" Lita snapped, leaping away when finding that his hands were securely gripping her flaring hips.
"You're trying to punish me, aren't you?" he continued, massaging her hipbone in hypnotic circles. Glancing around wildly, she sought for any onlookers, and to her horror, a few couples were glancing questioning at them.
"I would appreciate it if you let me go. People are staring."
"Isn't that what you wanted?"
"I wanted to wrap up a business deal, not to be groped and manhandled tonight," the young woman grittingly reminded, and wrenched herself from his sizzling touch. The last thing she needed was to be a victim of Nephrite's seduction, because heaven help her, she'd melt quicker than butter on the sun's surface.
Without even bothering to glance over her shoulder, she strode purposefully through the exit, with a simple nod to the doorman. However, any hopes of shrugging off her business partner with a few cold words and a spiteful glare were eliminated when she felt a warm hand capture her wrist. Instantly, she was whirled around to confront those calm, chocolate brown eyes, always too distant to ever bestow her with any warmth.
"Let me go."
"Not before we have a little talk, my dear," he smiled easily into her glower, and actually leaned down to kiss her cheek. For the sake of rebelling, she wretched her head away, her emerald green eyes blazing with indignity and arousal. His smirk faltered slightly at her obvious rebuff, but he suddenly pressed their bodies intimately together.
"What do you want from me?" demanded Lita, struggling to escape his touch, the feel of his muscular body flexing against hers.
"I want answers."
"Answers to what?"
"Why are you wearing that damn dress tonight?"
"Why do you think?"
"To torment me!" he loudly replied, his eyes narrowing when he ground his pelvis against hers. Suddenly overcome with the headiest feel of desire, Lita couldn't reply immediately, but wildly congratulated herself when she did.
"Nephrite, if you think that I bought this dress for your benefit, you need to have your head deflated a good five pounds. I could care less of your approval or disapproval."
"I'd say that you haven't disappointed me. After all, I have to go through the torture of each day wishing I could find out what's beneath those terrible outfits you wear. And now that I know…."
With wide eyes, she lifted her gaze to openly gape at her business partner, not quite certain how to react to his steely admission. His normally cool chocolate brown eyes were dark with a fervent yearning that tightened her lions and heated her body.
"What, what are you going to do?"
"For your sake, you should hope nothing."
Gathering herself, she pushed against his chest to increase the breath of space between them. "Oh, for my sake? Please, find another woman who'll succumb to you. In fact, I have a perfect reference, Kiera Jones. I'm sure she'll enjoy a roll in the sack."
"Isn't that unfortunate that I don't give a damn about Kiera? I want you so badly right now I can almost taste you," Nephrite's voice deepened to 'bedroom level,' as he brushed his mouth against her skittering pulse, her ears.
Emotion flared within her, first relief then a glowing pride. Her eyelids grew heavy with desire, and unconsciously she leaned back to allow greater access to her neck. Powerful hands roamed over her waist and the curve her derriere before returning to press possessively at the small of her back. Unable to help herself, she leaned forward to press small bites along his neck, particularly around his Adam's apple. Cool, composed Nephrite groaned his approval. She never felt so aware of her feminine prowess.
"So I'm guessing you liked the dress?"
So, what do you think? It ended abruptly, but I rather liked where it ended. Leaves much to the imagination, si? Email me, dear readers, or review.
[email protected]
Email: [email protected]
Disclaimer: I only claim rights to this story and the lovely Keira Jones. All remaining characters belong to their rightful owner.
"Thank you, Miss Jones."
"At your service." Giggling huskily, Office Doll Barbie smiled slowly, allowing the full meaning of her words to hang thickly in the air. With a swing of her hips, she strolled out.
"No wonder there are so many rumors circulating about that woman," she remarked, staring after the doorway.
"I can only wish half of them are true," joked her associate, shaking himself out of his hormonal stupor.
"You're pathetic. That woman would roll in the sack with anything remotely male, you realize that?"
"You shouldn't be so judgmental, Miss McConnell."
"You shouldn't be so easily controlled by your hormones, Celestano," she sweetly retorted. Shaking her head with apparent disapproval, she straightened her frumpy, ankle length skirt and returned her attention to the sheet in her hand. "Back to business."
"As usual."
Lita shot him a warning look before returning to her papers. "Mr. Fahrs wants us to wrap up the business negotiations with Biotech, Inc soon."
"I second that, I'm getting quite tired of laughing at those overstuffed CEOs' horrible jokes."
"Cry me a river, Celestano. Maybe we could further persuade them through another business meeting."
"Another opportunity to don those revealing dresses that flatter your attributes?"
She frowned at his sarcastic jab. He was perfectly aware that she dodged anything that could even be slightly revealing. "I could gladly knock you senseless right now, but unfortunately, I have matured past that. But if need be, I could always raid Miss Jones' closet."
"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were jealous," with a small, knowing smile, Nephrite swiveled in his chair, muscular arms crossed over his wonderfully broad chest, and tilted his head questioning up at her.
"Huh?" Fighting a blush when his chocolate brown eyes settled on hers intently, she sputtered, gestured wildly, and flounced to the door. A hand on her hip, the brunette turned and declared, "That's ridiculous. I am not jealous!"
"I could understand how you could be; she is outrageously pretty, with a perfect figure to boot. And," he smiled mischievously, "she did manage to capture my attention."
"Exactly what are you trying to say?" Lita ground out through gritted teeth, although she was all too aware of he was implying. "Listen, Celestano, I could care less of who you entertain, or try to, that is. Unlike Miss Jones, I prefer to exude a bit more modesty."
"That is quite obvious," his gaze flickered down to her dowdy long skirt and drab blazer, resting a few more, uncomfortable seconds on her heaving breasts.
"Impressing you is the least thing on my mind, remember that. I'm scheduling that business meeting tomorrow evening. Talk to my secretary or call my cell phone for more information. Try to act older than a fifteen year old boy, Celestano."
Not paying the slightest bit attention to an alarmed blonde she broad sided on her way to the bathroom, Lita stormed inside and gripped the counter.
That egotistical, self centered male whore. Exactly who did he think he was, picking apart her outfits and making preposterous claims?!
She never wanted to be partnered with the company playboy/jerk. His ego was more than sufficient for the both of them; in fact, she grew quite annoyed with his arrogance. It was even more irritating whenever he made any…sexual implications.
"I hate him, I hate him!" she shrieked at her reflection. There was absolutely no reason for her to be jealous of Kiera, it wasn't like she was horrid looking. A bit tall perhaps, maybe her long, mahogany mane and chestnut eyes were a bit common and boring, and she had to confess that her figure wasn't exactly slender (her friends often claimed it was pure 'woman'), but still…he was nothing overly special himself!
Although he did have great, strong shoulders. And a really nice butt.
"You're pathetic."
"That you are," a new voice noted with dripping sarcasm. Lita averted her gaze to a smugly smiling Kiera Jones, her slender arms crossed over her round breasts, her loincloth skirt riding even more ridiculously high on her stocking thighs. She was every man's fantasy, and every attached woman's nightmare.
The trashy tramp.
"What do you want?"
"You're so obvious, sometimes I have to laugh," Kiera strode forward, her snakeskin heels clipping against the tile floor.
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"Your silly little infatuation with Nephrite, of course."
"You're not only easy, but you're delusional as well."
"You want him real bad, don't you? Well, unfortunately, he pursues women with a bit more…," she sardonically inspected her plain ensemble with unmasked aversion, "taste."
"And that includes you?"
"Oh yes, that definitely includes me."
"Funny, then he must also pursue women with much less…," Lita mimicked her actions to perfection, "class."
"You must think you're very clever."
"Don't you have to be somewhere? Like in some janitor's closet screwing the next rumored vice president?" Lita threw the question over her shoulder while she confidently swaggered out of the bathroom, a grin blossoming over her features when she heard her dear, dear friend's stammers.
That trashy, classless tramp.
She confidently sauntered to the table, tossing her luscious auburn waves behind an exposed, creamy shoulder. All conversation throughout the entire restaurant hushed, and that included a particularly arrogant, sex driven bastard named Nephrite Celestano.
With a glamorous smile, she murmured in a husky, appealing voice, "Evening, gentlemen." Without losing a beat, she seductively approached her business partner, lifted a smooth leg so that her knee was lodged precariously close to his groin, and whispered against his quite delicious looking mouth, "Not so frumpy now, am I?"
Running a single finger up his muscular thighs, she smiled slightly at his appreciative groan. Angling her face so that their lips were mere breaths apart, she inquired sensually, "Do you want me, Nephrite?"
Yep, she had imagined that routine for about the umpteenth time. Unfortunately, each ended with either her slipping off the chair, or Nephrite bursting into hysterical laughter at her complete lack of sexual appeal. Lita shook her head at her cowardice, reminding herself that there was no reason for feeling self conscious.
She never felt more naked than when she just popped out of her mother's womb, and even then, she was covered in placenta.
It wasn't that the dress was trashy. The champagne silk was purposefully draped so loosely across her shoulders that it appeared that at any moment the thin straps would slip off her soft shoulders. The cocktail gown molded tightly to her round breasts, but fluidly slid across her narrow waist and womanly hips. The hem brushed against her knees, swirling temptingly whenever she dared to walk on her matching, champagne heels.
She knew the dress accentuated her forest green eyes, tanned skin, and vibrant auburn hair. However, she had no idea how to properly balance herself on her heels.
Meanwhile, the men were waiting for her arrival, and from the looks of Nephrite's strained smile, they wanted business to commence.
This meant she had to proverbially roll her cowardice into a ball and toss it into the closet. Fear of collapsing stupidly on her face and all.
"Oh boy," Lita muttered to herself as she wobbled uneasily on the heels, but managed to finally approach the table without stumbling once. The first step for a recovering frump, not tripping when walking in heels, of course, was met. "Good evening Mr. Deatly, Mr. Witmer, Mr. Celestano."
For a moment, there was a moment of particularly stunned silence. The two 'overstuffed' CEOs gawked openly, which wasn't particularly pleasant. Her gaze slid nervously to her partner, who merely returned it with a raised, questioning eyebrow. Still not breaking his intense eye contact, he slowly sipped his wine glass.
"I think we can all agree that Miss McConnell looks quite lovely," Nephrite dolefully declared, lifting his goblet as if to congratulate her transformation.
"Lovely doesn't do you justice, Miss McConnell. You look beautiful," Mr. Deatly, perhaps a bit too frisky at his wizened age, eagerly clasped her hand. Smiling brightly, Lita reddened and shyly laughed at the compliments.
"I don't recall seeing you with your hair down, but those waves are perfection," Mr. Witmer admired, following the waterfall of her cascading locks down to the swell of her full breasts. "Thank you, sir that is very considerate of you."
With fluid grace that she envied, Nephrite rose to his feet and wordlessly assisted her into her chair. Although he commonly displayed such manners, such as opening doors, paying for lunch, they never failed to surprise her.
"I'm sorry to keep you waiting, traffic was terrible. Have you gentlemen ordered yet?" she questioned, running her fingers through her waves self consciously.
"Of course not, we've been waiting for your arrival, Miss McConnel," interjected Mr. Witmer, touching her hand briefly as he beamed at her.
"Why, thank you, sir! Honestly, your manners never stop to amaze me." "So, Mr. Witmer and Mr. Deatly, have you reconsidered the negotiations?" Nephrite suddenly interrupted his tone undeniably brisk. Surprised, Lita glanced hastily at her partner, wondering why suddenly of all the moments to socialize, he chose this one moment to be all business. Men, such odd creatures.
"I'm sure business can wait until after we order dinner, Nephrite. I'm positively starving," she soothed the silence, casting him a discreet, reproving glance from behind the protective shield of her menu. It was terrible etiquette to open discussions before the waitress even appeared at the table.
He should have known better.
"Yes, thank you so much for tonight. I hope you enjoyed the dinner," Lita called after the retreating backs of the CEOs. She giggled slightly when poor Mr. Deatly, a bit tipsy, blew her a heapful of drunken kisses.
"I must say, you stole the show tonight," a velvety baritone interrupted her musing laughter. Lifting her eyes to collide against the cool, chocolate brown ones, she shrugged her creamy shoulders carelessly.
"The night was a success, that's all that matters." When he remained silent, but ever watchful with those piercing brown eyes nearly burning hot holes into her skin, she sighed, "Better start heading home, it's getting a bit late."
"Why the dress, Miss McConnell?" he suddenly questioned. Startled, she actually flinched.
"Just felt like dressing differently, I suppose. What's wrong, even I can't act feminine for once, Celestano?" she sarcastically retorted.
"I would have never guessed that you'd manipulate men with your...assets."
Casting him a deathly glare, she bit out, "I did nothing inappropiate, Celestano. If the dress did make a difference, then fine. But I did not compromise my morals in the process."
His enigmatic silence enraged her.
"Don't worry I'll be right back in those dowdy suits once we return to work tomorrow."
The nerve of the bastard. He couldn't even spare a single compliment, he couldn't even allow a 'you look rather nice.' She certainly wasn't expecting worshipful kisses, not that she wanted them from Nephrite, mind you, but she was at least hoping for the slightest warmth.
"I do believe it's too late," he murmured silkily, following her as she quickly shuffled to retrieve her coat. Startled once again when he held open the folds of lavish silk, she suspiciously slid her arms into each hole.
Warm breath wafted against her ear, and tantalizing spasms of delight coursed through her rigid body. "I know exactly what you're trying to do, you little minx."
"What are you talking about, Nephrite?" Lita snapped, leaping away when finding that his hands were securely gripping her flaring hips.
"You're trying to punish me, aren't you?" he continued, massaging her hipbone in hypnotic circles. Glancing around wildly, she sought for any onlookers, and to her horror, a few couples were glancing questioning at them.
"I would appreciate it if you let me go. People are staring."
"Isn't that what you wanted?"
"I wanted to wrap up a business deal, not to be groped and manhandled tonight," the young woman grittingly reminded, and wrenched herself from his sizzling touch. The last thing she needed was to be a victim of Nephrite's seduction, because heaven help her, she'd melt quicker than butter on the sun's surface.
Without even bothering to glance over her shoulder, she strode purposefully through the exit, with a simple nod to the doorman. However, any hopes of shrugging off her business partner with a few cold words and a spiteful glare were eliminated when she felt a warm hand capture her wrist. Instantly, she was whirled around to confront those calm, chocolate brown eyes, always too distant to ever bestow her with any warmth.
"Let me go."
"Not before we have a little talk, my dear," he smiled easily into her glower, and actually leaned down to kiss her cheek. For the sake of rebelling, she wretched her head away, her emerald green eyes blazing with indignity and arousal. His smirk faltered slightly at her obvious rebuff, but he suddenly pressed their bodies intimately together.
"What do you want from me?" demanded Lita, struggling to escape his touch, the feel of his muscular body flexing against hers.
"I want answers."
"Answers to what?"
"Why are you wearing that damn dress tonight?"
"Why do you think?"
"To torment me!" he loudly replied, his eyes narrowing when he ground his pelvis against hers. Suddenly overcome with the headiest feel of desire, Lita couldn't reply immediately, but wildly congratulated herself when she did.
"Nephrite, if you think that I bought this dress for your benefit, you need to have your head deflated a good five pounds. I could care less of your approval or disapproval."
"I'd say that you haven't disappointed me. After all, I have to go through the torture of each day wishing I could find out what's beneath those terrible outfits you wear. And now that I know…."
With wide eyes, she lifted her gaze to openly gape at her business partner, not quite certain how to react to his steely admission. His normally cool chocolate brown eyes were dark with a fervent yearning that tightened her lions and heated her body.
"What, what are you going to do?"
"For your sake, you should hope nothing."
Gathering herself, she pushed against his chest to increase the breath of space between them. "Oh, for my sake? Please, find another woman who'll succumb to you. In fact, I have a perfect reference, Kiera Jones. I'm sure she'll enjoy a roll in the sack."
"Isn't that unfortunate that I don't give a damn about Kiera? I want you so badly right now I can almost taste you," Nephrite's voice deepened to 'bedroom level,' as he brushed his mouth against her skittering pulse, her ears.
Emotion flared within her, first relief then a glowing pride. Her eyelids grew heavy with desire, and unconsciously she leaned back to allow greater access to her neck. Powerful hands roamed over her waist and the curve her derriere before returning to press possessively at the small of her back. Unable to help herself, she leaned forward to press small bites along his neck, particularly around his Adam's apple. Cool, composed Nephrite groaned his approval. She never felt so aware of her feminine prowess.
"So I'm guessing you liked the dress?"
So, what do you think? It ended abruptly, but I rather liked where it ended. Leaves much to the imagination, si? Email me, dear readers, or review.
[email protected]