Curved (8 page)

Joseph’s hands yanked at my ass, and as he slid further in, he warmed me to a melting point.

“Oh,” I said, my head stretching up, “yes, yes I can be both.”

Joseph struck my pleasure spot. “What makes you think so?” he said.

God, why did he have to play around with my feelings like this? I was sure of my being a nonprofit queen, but he only highlighted how inexperienced I was in comparison.

“I’ve always pursued my dreams,” I said, “what makes you think it’ll all come crumbling down around me?”

“Nothing,” Joseph said, thrusting with his hips, his balls slapping my ass. He dragged his fingers over my clit, moaning, grunting. Pre-come spilled from his cock into my pleasure spot, worming to the crevices of my canal.

“Then why question me?”

“I’ve never seen anyone make it,” Joseph said, “you’ll need my help eventually.”

Joseph yanked on my hair, making my ass jut out instinctively.

My breasts swung underneath me, my skin stinging with a bite of ecstasy manifesting.

Climax was about to make me come.

“I like it when you squirt,” Joseph said, his finger on my clit. He pressed forward, as hard and as far as he could, compressing my back, launching forward to my breasts. He rubbed my nipples gently, one and then the other, his cock jerking to the side, contracting.

“Oh,” I said, “just make me…”

“I’ll make you,” he said, exploding inside me. Come gushed out in a long run, like a river, spilling forth from his mushroom head, emptying into my canal. I squeezed my thighs together, the juices from my clit squirting over the mattress, the bed sheets. Groaning, I turned over slightly, angling myself so his cock could pound again my pleasure spot.

I flailed underneath him, my heart heavy with the decisions I had to make.

He could save me and solve all my problems. Or he could corrupt me, changing me little by little, injecting the evils of finance into me.

Too late for that, I thought.

His hands swept under for my breasts, cupping each nipple.

His kissed the back of my legs, slowly drawing closer until his cock lay on my back.

Warm and gooey, sex was exactly what I had thought: too good if you’re with the right man.

I wished in that instance that Joseph wasn’t so capable.

Anyone else, and I could’ve dumped him quickly. But he was my boss, and someone I had come to acknowledge on a professional level. He wasn’t wrong either when he talked to me during dinner or sex.

I liked him. I resented him.

And he was right. I needed him.

Chapter 12

I couldn’t challenge the world alone. I had to have support somehow. Working at Placarm Rhodes might not have been exactly aligned with my interests, but after thinking over what Joseph had to say to me, it became clear: I had to barrel forward and get as much money as I required for my goals.

Witnessing his lifestyle had only exposed me to the precision that wealth could bring. The types of food. Clothes. Housing. These things—luxuries?—all humans craved for.

Regardless, I had my qualms. Joseph was my boss.

My boss.

And sleeping around with your officemates was a huge taboo. Even if Joseph were only my coworker, he represented the untouchable boundary I never meant to cross.

Not love, but the beginning of a deep interest.

“Sleep,” Joseph whispered. He cuddled next to me, gracing my face with his stubble. I became the little spoon, dipping into his flesh, his warm cock still at my cunt entrance. “There we go…”

“Joseph,” I said, “where do you think the two of us are going with this?”

Joseph wiggled his hips against me. I could feel his smile spread across his face. “As far as we can go,” he said. “Why?”

“You’re very nice and all,” I said, “and very handsome. But…” I yawned, sleepiness blearing my vision. “When it comes to guys, I’ve… I’m a virgin. Or I was.”

“I could tell,” Joseph said, shrugging. He squeezed me tight, his hands capturing a nipple between his thumbs. He rubbed the perimeter of one, releasing the tension there under my skin. I groaned, as he twisted his fingers. “I didn’t mind though. You got into the rhythm. You followed my lead and were accepting.”

“Hard not to,” I said. “You’re… Really perfect. For any other women, you’d be an instant yes.”

“But I’m not with you.”

His breath surrounded me, cool and rapidly evolving, as if the atoms from inside his body told me his about his true feelings.

“You’re a yes,” I said, “and a no.”

He lifted me up slightly, his arms stronger than I thought.

“What?” I said, looking at him in the darkness.

“You’re confident for a virgin,” he said.

“Former virgin,” I said. I tapped his nose, rolling over to my side. “I might’ve heard you screaming at Antonio. But I’m not scared of you—I want you to know that.”

“I never intended for you to be scared,” he said.

He held me, kissing my neck.

“You think so now,” I said. “But in the future, who knows.” I yawned one last time, my body shutting down. “I can see it already: I do something egregious, and you’ll be at my throat.”

“No,” he whispered, stroking me. “No, no way…”

***

When I dreamed, I dreamed of the kids in the playground. They were taunting me, my clothes, but this time Joseph rolled through the blacktop. He drove one of those bikes made for twelve-year-olds.

Then he hopped off, wielding a bat, and he forced all the rest off and away from me.

“Ophelia,” he echoed. “Trust me?”

“Yeah, as much as I can,” I said. “I have to. You’re paying me.”

He brandished his hands as if he were struck by an arrow. “Oh, you wound me.”

“I’m just saying.”

“Yeah, you don’t have to ‘just say’ to give me directions. I can take a hint.”

“Really?” I said.

His visage evaporated, chunks of him blackening and fading into the surrounding dreamscape.

The ground below me chipped away, and I fell through, waking up at exactly 8 AM in the morning.

***

“Ophelia,” he said, shaking me. “Hey, you?”

I rubbed my eyes out. Smiling at him, I touched Joseph’s cheek. “I saw you in my dreams,” I said.

“Oh?”

“Joseph, I have to think about this before we… Go any further. I have to make sure that this investment banking thing—you—is what I want going forward.”

“And?” Joseph said.

“And,” I said. “Just give me some time. I want to… Have some time alone.”

I had to contemplate more. Waking up, I felt extremely conflicted about being with him.

Investment banker.

My boss.

Me.

The homeless shelter.

“I can wait for you,” he said. “But be careful, I might not forever.”

“There are plenty of other women who would like you,” I whispered. “Why not them?”

“Hmm…” Joseph sat up on his elbow. Kissing my cheek, he stroked my nipple. “Why not indeed?”

I pulled off the bed sheets, swinging my legs down to the floor. Stretching my arms, I glanced at Joseph, his hand swerving across my back.

Trying to be professional, I stood, naked, of course, but still. Maintaining composure and grace was important to me. It made me seem more elegant, or so I thought.

“You can keep pretending,” Joseph said, rolling himself out of the bed sheets, as I went to grab my clothes. Bending low, I changed, Joseph’s hands helping me, assisting me at every point. He pulled up my pants, my blouse, strapped on my bra, slipped my panties on. He touched my clit, massaging the center, reaching for my cunt lips. “Keep pretending,” he sung, “just keep pretending…”

His mouth traveled around my neck, reaching up to my own. I kissed him, the warmth of saliva flowing between us like a steady channel.

I sucked on his tongue, feeling the rasp of his beard against my skin, raking my flesh, scratching me hard.

His cock got stiffer until it rose along his boxer briefs.

His suit was on the floor. Where we had left it before we went to bed.

I massaged his balls, feeling the crevice in between, stroking his chest. Watching him grow more erect.

When he was at full mast, I knelt down, pulling his boxer briefs open. The panel flew apart, my mouth on the tip of his mushroom.

A string of pre-come stretched from his cock eye to my lips. I savored the taste, somewhat scared of this position.

I looked up at him, my eyes swimming to the top of my face.

“Maybe later,” I said, suddenly standing. Kissing him on the cheek, I pat shoulder, stroking his muscular biceps, the round triceps to fill out my palms. “Okay?”

“All right,” Joseph said. “But don’t keep me waiting forever. Someone can’t just wait forever.”

Nodding at him, I took my purse, found my subway card, and walked with him to the door.

“Breakfast?” Joseph said.

I shook my head, snatching my heels up. Sitting on the duvet nearby, I planted my feet in both pumps, Joseph lording over me, the shadow casted from the kitchen light.

“Oh, I know it’s silly,” I said, “not wanting to… Stay… But… I’m just really conflicted. Inside of me I really do have two different people. There’s this girl who wants to chase paper, and then this other, softer girl who remembers what it’s like to be poor. I’m thinking that you and I won’t get along because of my past, or that we’ll have conflicting political outlooks… But then, when we’re together, it’s just like I thought it would be.”

“Passionate?” Joseph said, stepping forward. Even his feet or muscular. I hooked my heels around his calf, reeling him in slowly. He brushed my hair, his fingers worming through my roots. “You’ll never find better.” He winked and smiled at me, those white teeth of his attracting me closer.

I slid upwards, against him, finding myself slightly above his chest once more. His hands carved an arc straight to my cunt, pushing in for my canal. I clutched his shoulder, twitching on my heels. My knees jammed together, as they had before, as if I were still a sensitive little innocent.

“You took it from me,” I gasped, swallowing a ball of saliva. “You… Took my virginity.”

“And did you like it?”

I nodded.

“All the more reason to come back,” he growled.

His fingers doubled to my clit, juices flowing once more out from the center, dripping across his fingers.

“Ugnh,” I said. “I’m sorry, I have to go.”

Joseph smiled at me, holding my hand, opening the front door for me.

***

The walk to class was a walk of shame. Even though no one in the streets could tell what happened—it’s not like they could read minds—I still had massive guilt about wasting a night with Joseph.

Precisely that. I saw him as a waste.

If I wasn’t staying inside studying or working on my charity, I hollowed out. Became an empty husk.

“You’re a workaholic,” Angela said, when I caught up with her in the cafeteria. She was eating a burger, wore a dressed down outfit: jeans and a T-shirt. She swung her head to the side for a better bite, opening her mouth wide. “I’m serious,” she said, in between her chewing, “you have a case of seriousitus. You need to relax and just slow down.”

“It’ll never work out,” I said. I had told her about what happened. About our get-together under the sheets.

“Even if he’s a playboy,” Angela said, “you need to learn how to use him to your advantage.”

“That’s the investment banker in you,” I said. “I don’t know if I could go against him.”

“Um, hello?” Angela wrapped up her burger, tossing it into a nearby garbage can. She slurped from a large bottle of Pepsi. “You already have. Those programs? It’s not like he authorized them.”

“Yeah,” I said, “but, I told him about them. Eventually. He knows now.”

“After he caught you.”

“Well…”

“Just think of it this way: he wants to spend time with you. And if you work out, then you work out. In the meantime, you should be prepping yourself for heartbreak.”

I smiled at Angela, lightly laughing. “How so?”

“I’m not saying it won’t work out,” Angela said, “but by the way you’re talking about him still, you might really not be compatible whatsoever.”

“I’m just being stubborn,” I said. “I want it to work out.”

“Then make up your mind,” Angela said. “You can’t have it both ways.”

“I just don’t feel like… Him and me? But then…”

“Stranger couplings have happened in fiction,” she said.

“I guess.”

“Look,” she said, “I have to go to class. But man, you are lucky as hell. Enjoy the sex with him.”

“You’re not jealous of me, are you?” I said, playfully. But when I looked at Angela, she held her gaze on me, imprisoned me in her glare.

“No,” she said. “Not really.”

She walked off, her books at her chest, arms wrapped around.

Maybe I should’ve told her about what I was doing at work. It would’ve saved her a lot of work. Then again, in this industry, you couldn’t trust even your own best friends.

I had heard horror stories about how backstabbing and conniving bankers could be. Horrible, awful tales of sex, money, drugs—the usual suspects.