My lips parted and his tongue gently brushed against mine. I moaned and he pressed firmer against my mouth. He pushed more until I was going backwards with his arm around my waist gently guiding me.
Soon I was pressed against a brick-lined garden wall that was about waist high.
Clay put both of his hands on my waist, picked me up and sat me down on top of the wall. His hand slid under my sweater and traced delicately over my belly. He went further up until his hand was covering my bare breast. His fingers pinched my nipple and it became instantly hard in his hand.
I was breathing heavily yet felt breathless at the same time. He moved his lips down my body and covered my breast with his mouth. He lightly sucked on the tip of my nipple and swirled his tongue around it.
I arched my back reacting to his licking and kissing. I felt I was already on the verge of an orgasm and he had not yet touched my already wet center.
I was consumed by the affect he was having on me.
He pulled my sweater off over my head. I was topless, no bra, in the middle of this secluded path in his garden. It was exciting and the thought that we could get caught any second was doubly thrilling.
Though I didn’t know what was happening. I knew that this was wrong. We shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t be doing this. I was about to become his employee, and right away I was breaking all the rules of professionalism.
But I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. I had thought about this moment for so long that the desire in me was now overpowering all rational thought. I pressed my hand against his hard chest.
He was solid and I could feel the ripple of his toned chest under my hand. I unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off. His six-pack abs and strong shoulders were lightly sun-kissed and I let my hands roam over them.
I couldn’t stand it anymore; I needed him inside me.
He must have read my thoughts because he placed soft kisses on my belly and went lower.
I tensed up and Clay’s hand grabbed my thigh and squeezed it aggressively. This translated to me as a lustful desire that he too had pent up inside of him, as if it been waiting to burst out of him, and that made me feel good.
Clearly we were on the same level of wanting each other.
His hand moved up my thigh past my black thigh high stockings. My skirt pushed up along with the movement and his long fingers reached my panties. He pushed them aside exposing my warm flesh. With one swift movement his head was between my thighs and his tongue licked my crevice. I yelled out.
It was obvious that he was skilled. His tongue flicked against my clitoris. I could barely stand it. It was too perfect and just right all at the same time. I whispered his name, “Clay. Oh God. Yes.”
That must have been a trigger because suddenly he stopped. By the abruptness I could tell that he didn’t stop because he was going to move to another part of my body, but because something was wrong.
I opened my eyes. I was still propped on the wall with my skirt hiked up. He was standing a foot or two away from me on the path. He stared at me, his face impossible to read.
“What is it?” I asked my voice shaking with vulnerability.
Clay said nothing. He walked back to me, pulled my skirt back into place and handed me my sweater.
He picked me up off the wall and set me gently on my feet then said, “I’m sorry Eva. This is wrong. I just couldn’t help myself. I’ve wanted you since that time at the party, but I thought it would pass. I should go.”
Then he walked away from me.
I stood there with my mouth agape. Was this really happening? He was leaving me here alone in his garden after we’d just shared an intimate moment together? It was absurd, and wrong, not to mention embarrassing.
I fought back tears of rejection. I needed to keep it together. I could cry about it later.
He stopped, turned slightly and said, “My assistant will email you all the documents to get started on the fundraiser in Italy.”
Then he continued walking away. He turned down another path and was out of sight.
I quickly pulled my sweater back on and brushed my hair into place. I felt mortified. To top it off he still expected me to work for him? I walked quickly toward the main house. I needed to get out of there.
I walked up the stairs to the larger portico veranda where the maid was waiting for me. She quietly said, “There’s a cab outside for you Ms. I will get your coat for you. Follow me.”
I glued my eyes to the floor and followed her to the front door. Within minutes I was in a cab fighting back tears on my way back into the city.
So many thoughts flooded my head. I didn’t know why he’d stopped like that. He said it was wrong, which I agreed with; it was never a good idea to mix pleasure and business.
However, I really doubted it was his first time doing that. He was obviously a playboy billionaire, and they usually did whatever they wanted with whomever they pleased.
I should have known better.
5
The truth however, was that I now had to work for Clay Roth.
I had already given up my position with the event company, and I could not go back, seeing that I quit after only a month of work.
I was now stuck. I had to continue this position. I forced myself to remember the details of the fundraiser. I was going to Venice and I was working on a career-changing event. It was a masquerade ball during Carnivale, and it would be epic.
For two weeks I planned the charity ball. I never spoke to Clay again and I didn’t have to. He wasn’t involved on this level.
I dove right into the work with a fury. Anything I could do to distract myself from the flashbacks I was getting. Every time I closed my eyes or had a moment of silence, I saw Clay with his beautiful blonde locks between my legs caressing me.
He would look up at me with his beautiful blue eyes. It was too much to have to relive that moment over and over. I couldn’t even take walks in Central Park with out thinking about being in a garden with him.
I became a workaholic just to cope with the ordeal.
The night before I was due to leave for Italy, I was at my apartment packing and making some last minute preparations when my buzzer rang.
“Hello?”
“It’s Clay. May I come up?”
I was stunned into silence. Only a few seconds passed but it felt like minutes.
“OK.” I buzzed him in, then I darted to the bathroom and quickly put on a coat of lip-gloss and powdered my face.
I was wearing a tank top and tight jeans, but that was better than sweats so I left it on. I ran the brush aggressively through my hair and pinched my cheeks to get some color in them. Then I sprayed myself, and my entire apartment, with lavender.
I was thankful that I had spent the day cleaning and tidying up before my trip. A loud knock on the door let me know he had made it up. I took a deep breath and opened it, wondering how he knew my address, but then realising that as a new employee it would have been on record.
“Mr. Roth…. I wasn’t expecting you.”
“May I come in?”
“Yes, of course.”
He strolled in and paced around my apartment proudly, as though sizing up the place.
I felt minuscule. I’d almost forgotten how striking he was. His beautiful blue eyes were warm, even though his jaw was set in a stern line as he looked at me.
His long blonde locks looked recently bleached by the sun. Right then he looked like a surf god in a business suit. He looked so good right there standing in my apartment, only inches from my bedroom, and I wanted so desperately for him to fuck me.