Running From Destiny (10 page)

“I don’t know who it’s fr
om and I didn’t order anything. What if a bomb is inside and it blows up in my face as I open it?” Yeah, I watch too many crime shows on television.

“Silly girl.
Do you hear it ticking?” Heather laughs.

“Okay okay, hold on.” I tell her as I carry the box into the kitchen. There is a brown twine wrapped around the box and I need scissors to cut it off, which I grab from the knife block on the counter and cut the cord. I rip off the paper and slowly lift the lid to the box, like something is going to jump out at me or something. Tissue paper covers whatever it is so I peel it back and there it is.

Holy Shit.

I pull out a black bolero jacket, a silver camisole and a black skirt. It’s the outfit I fell in love with at the fashion show, the one that was way too expensive to even attempt to bid on. I laid the pieces out, draping them on the back of the dining room chair and look back in the box.

There’s a note there.

Wear this tomorrow night. And remember, no panties.

Well shit.
I stand and stare at the note, eyes going back and forth between it and the clothes until I hear a voice through my phone. “Ally! What is it?!” Heather breathes through the phone.

“Oh. My. God.
Heather. You remember what Amanda was wearing at the fashion show?” I ask her. She paused, probably thinking, which doesn’t always come naturally for Heather.

“Wait, black skirt with a m
atching jacket?” She responds.

“Yeah.
I found myself drooling over it, but the bids were too high, so I walked away. Well, the entire outfit including the silver sandals are sitting right here.” I tell her.

“NO WAY!” she screams.

“Way.” Is all I can come up with. Again with the cheesy movie lines. I feel kind of like Garth in Wayne’s World right now. I’m at a total loss for words.

“Is it from.......
?” Heather pauses.

“Yes, I assume so.
The note tells me to wear it tomorrow and includes a reminder to not wear panties. I have to wear panties, Heather. How can he tell me not to wear panties?”

“Well, I assume it’s
so he has easier access, Al.”

“Well, duh Heather.
I may not be a rocket scientist, but I’m not stupid.”

“I never said you were, Al.
But his note seems obvious to me. You seem to me more concerned with the panty situation than about the real problem here. You are afraid to open yourself up and live a little. You’ve been ensconced in your world for too long and venturing outside of your little box is freaking you out.”

“Freaking out?
FREAKING OUT!? Of course I’m freaking out! Have you SEEN Jackson Bentley? Have you seen ME! Yeah, I’m freaking out because I don’t know what he wants from me...well, I think I do...but that’s beside the point. He could have any woman in the world and he’s pursuing me. He should be pursuing you, you’re right up his alley...I’m at the far dark end of the alley and I’ve got nowhere to run.”

“Nonsense.
Jackson is exactly what you need, someone to let a little light in on your dark world, Ally. I know he’s not the typical guy you go for, but your typical guy hasn’t been working out for you lately. I know what your fantasies are, Al. Just go with it. But watch your heart, you tend to get too deep too quick, so protect yourself, but go ahead and live a little.” She preaches.

“Heather, I don’t know. My job is affected now.
Tim saw Jackson kiss me on the street in.......”

“He kissed you?
Why didn’t you tell me?” She exclaims.

“I did, at Diggers, but you were
too pissed off at me to listen. I told you the whole story, did you not hear any of it?” Gosh, she frustrates me sometimes.

“Sorry girl.
I had Ben and Jerry on the brain. Tell me now, I’m listening.” I look at the clock again, ten fifteen. “I gotta go now, Heather, we can talk tomorrow. It’s late and I have a big day tomorrow. I’ll text during dinner and let you know if I need you to come rescue me, or make a phony phone call telling me my cat died or something.”

“You don’t have
a cat!”

“I k
now, but he doesn’t know that. Look, just be available because I may need to make a hasty escape and I won’t have my car there. He told me he would pick me up. Oh, and get this....Tim told me to notify security that my car will be in the parking garage after hours. It’s like he’s condoning this or something. I’m starting to wonder whose side he’s on.”

“
Okay, I’ll keep my phone handy. Sleep good and text me tomorrow.” Heather says and terminates the call. Wow. Okay, now that she thinks I’ve calmed down some, it’s time to hit the hay. But inside, I’m not calm at all.

Chapter 10

Thankfully Tuesday turns out to be uneventful and I have decided overnight that I’ll go on this di
nner date and see what happens. Yes, I have on panties. And no, not grannies either. I figure it isn’t going to matter anyway because no one is going to see them but me. I spend most of the day in the sample room, picking out fabric for drapes, carpet and upholstery. Jackson wants to keep his current furniture, but wants to change color schemes. This I can do, though I think his office looked fine the way it was.

My cell is quiet today, no strange text messages from Unknown Number nor Heather
, I’ve been left to work in peace. That is, until five o-clock rolls around and I get called into a meeting in Tim’s office.

He loves last minute meetings.
Anything to try and get people to stay late and get more work done. I’ve done my share of overtime lately, though on salary I get nothing out of it but a late dinner and late to bed, since I’m so damned tired once I get home. But, late meetings almost guarantee that I’m not sitting in traffic trying to get home.

I walk into Tim’s office and ha
ve a seat in front of his desk. This is the first time I’ve seen him all day, so he hasn’t seen my new outfit. “Nice digs, Ally. Did I give you a raise or something?” He says as he looks at me curiously.

“No, but I wouldn’t turn one dow
n.” I respond, totally serious. He will owe me once this project is completed.

“You look like you’re ready for your d
inner tonight with Mr. Bentley. You remember what I said yesterday, right?” He asks.

“Which part?
The part where you told me to stay away from him or the part where you threatened me with my job if I didn’t go?”

“I
didn’t threaten your job, Ally. I just reminded you to do whatever possible to ensure you don’t lose this account for Robertson. That’s all.” He smiles as he looks up at me. And not just a regular smile, a devious one at that. I’m beginning to think it’s time to check the classifieds, because I feel like I’m being played.

I start freaking out as five thirty rolls around, my mind has been playing tricks on me all day and I’ve had enough. First Tim and his contradictions, and complete silence on my cell. I know, I’m not supposed to be handling personal business on company time, I got that. But Heather knows, or should know, how I must be feeling today and I have not heard from her once.

And after a few moments
of pondering, I change my mind. Hey, I’m a girl and that’s what we do. I have decided that I’m not going to this dinner tonight. I’m going to march my fat ass down to the parking garage, get in my own car and go home. I will close shop at my desk and head out like nothing’s changed, cause if Tim finds out, I’m gonna be unemployed anyway. Hey, at least I have an open offer to go work for Jackson right?

Right.

This is so going to backfire on me, but I can’t help it. This dinner is a bad, bad idea, Tim and Heather be damned. They’ll both be pissed at me, for different reasons of course. But I’m not going to play Mr. Bentley’s games.

Six o’clock comes and I find myse
lf heading toward the elevator. Purse on my shoulder, iPhone in hand checking my personal email. Suffice it to say, I am not paying attention to where I am going and slam head on into a hard body, which doesn’t even step back on impact.

Mr. Bentley.

Shit, shit and double shit.

“Mr. Bentley, I was just on my way down to meet you.” No, I really wasn’t, but telling him otherwise will only cause trouble, and I
’m in enough of that as it is. “It’s after six o’clock, Ally. You’re late. I told you if you weren’t on the curb at six o’clock I would come up for you. And instead of seeing you still working at your desk, I see you strolling slowly toward the elevator drowning in your phone.” He looks at me. He’s NOT happy.

Oh well, he’ll get over it.

He puts his hand to the small of my back and ushers me to the elevator. But as the doors open, Tim comes around the corner. “Mr. Bentley. Good to see you.” He says reaching to shake hands.

“Tim. What a pleasure.
I’m whisking away this beautiful lady for the evening. I want to discuss what she’s come up with so far for the remodel.” Jackson tells him.

“Of course, of course.
Enjoy your evening.” Tim says as he gives me the stink eye.

All is quiet on the elevator, but Jackson is standing a
bit too close for my comfort. He doesn’t speak. The doors open and we exit on to the sidewalk and I expect to see his car or his limo there, but no cars are parked on the curb. Maybe we’re walking. There are several sidewalk cafes in the area that would suffice for the evening’s meeting.

I’m looking up and down the road when I feel s
omething press against my hand. And no, it’s not what you’re thinking. Dirty little minds. I look down and he’s handing me a helmet of sorts. I take it and look up at him, “What’s this?” I ask.

“What
does it look like, Alexandra? It’s a helmet.” He gestures at the shiny motorcycle parked in a no parking zone. “What....what?” I stuttered.

“We’re taking the bike, Ally.” He sa
ys while putting on his helmet. He then straddles the bike and kicks up the stand, “Put on the helmet and get on.” He tells me as he starts the engine. I tell him NO WAY, but he doesn’t hear me over the revving of the engine. He flips up the visor on his helmet and looks at me, then nods his head toward the rear of the bike, motioning me on.

I’m not sure I can do this.
I’ve never been on a motorcycle and have never really had the urge to. But something about the sleek, black bike and the look in his eyes tell me I’d better hurry up or there’ll be hell to pay.

He leaves the motor running and gets off the bike, walking to the back and op
ening up the small compartment. “Your purse goes in here.” He tells me, so I put the purse in and he closes the small compartment door.

He gets back on the bike and I have a little conversation with myself.

“Do I want to die today?

No, I don’t want to die.

So, do I get on the bike and die?

Or
don’t get on the bike and die?

Cause if I don’t, Jackson is going to kill me. Tim will be right there in line behind him.”

“Alexandra!
On the bike.” He demands.

“Okay, geez.
No need to be so bossy.” I grumble as I raise my left leg, hiking up the skirt and exposing my bare legs and straddle the back seat. I didn’t even know motorcycles had a back seat. “Hold on tight around my waist and keep your feet on the foot rests. Don’t lean or lie back, just hold on.”

I wrap my arms around his waist like he said and
place my hands on his stomach. Oh my.

Warm and hard underneath my hand
s. So warm, my fingers start tingling, or is that the vibration of the engine, I’m not sure. “Did you wear panties?” He asks.

I pretend not to hear him.

He turns around and lifts the visor off of his face again. “You did, didn’t you? Why didn’t you obey me, Alexandra?” He snarls at me. I jump off the bike and rip the helmet off my head.

“I am a grown woman, I don’
t
OBE
Y
anyone! Who the fuck do you think you are? You...you are so infuriating!” And yes, I was wagging my finger at him like a child. “This date is so not happening!” I finish as I storm off. The bike turns off and I hear the footsteps following me.

“Alexandra,
wait.” He takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I have this need....a need for control, and you make me lose that control. When I saw you in that bar in Miami, I knew I would never be able to control you, but I couldn’t help but try. Please forgive me. Have dinner with me and I will explain everything.” He says as he motions for me to get back on the bike.

“You don’t ow
n me and you don’t control me. Hell, I don’t even know why you want me when you can have any woman in the world!”

His eyes look pained, like I’v
e struck a nerve or something. He sighs, looking back up at me through long, dark eyelashes, flashing that emerald green at me, and I melt. I really need to grow some balls and walk away, but I can’t. “We can discuss that as well at dinner.” He hands me the helmet and puts his back on, starting the bike again, knowing I will agree to go with him.

What
am I a glutton for punishment? Yes, apparently I am, because I get back on the bike.

He straddles it in front of me and pulls my arms tighter around his waist, moldi
ng my fingers to link together. Yes, I could get used to this. Firm, rippled muscles caress my palms. The vibration of the seat tingles between my legs. Now I think I’ve figured out why he didn’t want me to wear panties. He wanted me to feel every growl and rumble of this bike. And he’s right. Though, one thin layer of cotton probably wouldn’t have made a difference. And, this way I have one extra layer of absorbent material to soak up the juices that are already accumulating.

He squeezes the handleba
rs and speeds off into traffic. After a few turns, we are merging on to I85 headed north. Is he taking me home? Surely not. Not after that scene on the sidewalk. He’s zooming between cars and changing lanes erratically and I love it. The wind in my face, the sound of the motor drowning out any other sounds. He has the radio on, but I can barely hear it. I don’t really care either. I squeeze my arms a little tighter and rest my cheek on his back, holding on tight. I feel his hand on top of my hand, his thumb stroking my knuckles. Between the soft caress of his hand and the rumble of the motorcycle, I find myself becoming extremely aroused.

I squirm my rear just a littl
e bit and....yeah, there we go. A few minutes of this.....oh geez. The vibrations are intense, much better than my BOB. They should use this as a selling feature because I’ll bet women would stand in line to buy one of these if they knew what it could do.

As Jackson zooms down the highway at lightning speed, my fear of riding on a motorcycle leaves me, and I close my eyes enjoying the breeze blowing around my neck and of cour
se, those exquisite vibrations. I open them again as he changes lanes and watch the trees and buildings fly by in a blur.

I squeeze my legs again
st Jackson’s body and hold on. My pussy starts throbbing and I can feel my panties sticking to my skin from the moisture. Then, from my toes on up my whole body spasms and I press my face against Jacksons back, squeezing the hand that is now wresting underneath mine. The orgasm rips through me and I dig my fingernails into his hand, my arms have now tightened around his stomach and I hear screaming. Was that me? I close my eyes and lights flash before them, flickering rapidly and then going dark. Did I pass out? Oh God, will Jackson know? Once the spasms calm down, I realize that his upper body is trembling in laughter. I am so embarrassed, but I secretly wonder if he will let me take the bike home so I can sit on it whenever I get horny.

Before I know it, Jackson hits the on ramp to Georg
ia 400 headed toward Buckhead. He exits on to Peachtree Road and heads toward what used to be known as the Bar District. I guess there are still some there, but it’s not as popular as it used to be. He pulls into a parking garage under a high rise building. Not sure if there is a restaurant here or not, but he pulls into a reserved for resident parking space.

Resident?
He lives here? Surely he has not just brought me to his home.

“Where are we?”
I ask as he turns off the bike and removes his helmet.

“Home.” Is all he says.

Shit.

He takes my helmet and places it in the storage compartment on the rear, handing me my purs
e and helping me off the bike. My legs are a little wobbly from that orgasm, but he holds on tight and gives me a few seconds to get my bearings, then gently nudges me toward a door, that apparently opens into the building. I know, I’m smart like that.

“H
ome? This is where you live?” I ask.

“Yes, when I am in Atlanta.
We have offices here, Miami and New York. I have places in each city. I spend a few months here and then move on to the next city. I consider New York my real home, though. I’ll take you there one day.” He says as we approach a large lobby.

One day?
Uh-Oh.

Gleaming marble floors, warm golden walls
and tall ficus trees greet me. A mahogany concierge desk stands in the center with a security guard behind the desk. “Evening, Mr. Bentley.” The officer says.

“Hello, Frank.
Slow night?” Jackson says with a twinkle in his eye.

“Yep, nothing exciting
ever happens around here, sir. The occasional solicitor or morning walk of shame, but no trouble.” He tips his hat at Jackson.

“We
ll, have a good night Frank.”

“You too sir, ma’am.” He says as he tips his hat at me
.

The doors to the elevator are
so shiny that I can see myself. And that’s not a good thing, since I now have helmet head. I run my fingers through my hair and shake my head, trying to put some body back into my straight hair. “Relax, you’re beautiful. Nothing like the flush on a woman’s face after a screaming orgasm.” He whispers in my ear.