Spicing Up Trouble: a romantic comedy (12 page)

BOOK: Spicing Up Trouble: a romantic comedy
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My body arched and bucked beyond my control as the water sloshed to the floor.

I needed steroids to keep up with him and a living will just in case I couldn't. I sweated and smiled. What a total calorie burn. I pushed myself up and splashed water on my face.

"I love to watch you," he said.

"Don't stop now. I want a rematch, best two thousand seven hundred and fifty three out of infinity," I said.

He knelt in front of me and kissed me down to my pedicure. My nether regions picked up the pulse of my heart. All the blood in my body pooled in my loins
.

"We could continue to play in here, but I'm afraid one of us will drown. Will you come to bed with me?" he asked.

Could I be surgically attached to him somehow? I never wanted to leave this condo
.

Whispering sweet nothings between kisses, he helped me out of the tub and set me on a towel. He stepped out, wrapped a towel around his waist, and started drying me off.

"I can do it," I said.

"I know, but I want to."

I undid his towel. Kneeling in front of him, I counterattacked with one last stand before I surrendered.

We collapsed on the mattress, spent.

"Are you sure you're done? I don't want you to feel cheated," I said.

"Alexia, I am well done. I trust you not to sully my reputation by talking about me to your sisters. Telling them how easily you got me naked and begging.

"I did, didn't I?

 

CHAPTER SIX

 

In the morning, Ben served breakfast in bed, coffee and toast. After another hour of lovemaking, I demanded to leave. Clean clothes were in short supply. He rode down with me in the elevator and lingered. I pushed him out after I promised to have dinner with him.

I tried to retain some mystery, plus shave and floss. I didn't want a spectator for either duty.

In the shower, I touched my swollen mound. Out of practice and enjoying the refresher course. And the private instruction. Coming in a distant third to my sisters, I had some experience with men. No love matches just a few hours of exploration and release. I remembered them, but doubted they would remember me.

After I toweled off and slipped on a robe, I gave myself a tour of my new home. My empty stomach led me to the kitchen first. To my surprise, the refrigerator grew food overnight. There was a knock at the door, probably the grocer with a bill.

Or, I had the horniest boyfriend in the world. I hopped to the door and flung it open.

"Hey, big fella," I purred as I twirled my robe belt.

"These came for you." Travis hid his grin and put two flower boxes in my arms. He didn't wait for my response, just raced back to the elevator.

After shutting the door and swallowing my embarrassment, I took the boxes into the kitchen and opened them. Four dozen roses: two reds, one pink, and one white. For love, friendship, and purity.

Two out of three wasn't bad. I never got flowers and now twice in one week. I found vases in the kitchen cabinet, and my cell phone rang. Ben's number flickered across the screen.

"Thank you for the flowers, and I may have flashed Travis by accident."

"You're welcome. I'm sure I don't want to know the particulars, but I'll deduct it from his pay as an entertainment fee."

"I thought he was you." I walked into my bedroom.

"Sorry I missed the show. I'll be delivering my own gifts from now on. I went through your question pile and started another pile for you."

"I'll be right up after I change." I went into the closet and grabbed a pullover shirt.

"What are you wearing now?" he asked.

"A bathrobe."

"I'll be right down."

The line went dead

"Benjamin Nance Cobb," I yelled.

I ran back the bedroom, tore off the robe, and searched the drawers for underwear. Finding some, I threw them on the bed. Too late to check for holes
.

I heard the doorknob rattle.

"Don't worry. I let myself in," he said from the hall.

"No."

I scrambled for the robe and belted it as he swaggered in the room.

"Don't hurry on my account. How far did you get?"

"Please let me dress."

"But I've seen you nude. I am also concerned about your work attire. You will be meeting people and representing me. I would like to be here to make suggestions."

"I bet you would."

He flopped on the bed and picked up a bra and panties. Holding them up, he gave a whistle of approval, and threw them over his shoulder.

"I arrived just in time," he said.

I tried to run, but he held the belt of the robe. It came off in his hand. I grabbed the front with both hands.

"I thought this was a business meeting," I said.

"All the business is upstairs. You started this by telling me what you weren't wearing."

I stumbled backward and bumped into a chair.

"I'm still sore from last night."

Not really, but I wanted to pretend to have some decorum.

"Me too." He rubbed his shoulder.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scratch you."

"Want to kiss it and make it better?"

He started to take off his shirt. The jeans were next.

"Ben, I'm trying to maintain some dignity."

"Don't bother on my account. My hope is that all of our business meetings will take place in the bedroom."

I remembered his warm embrace, the tickle of his chest hair against my breasts, and his versatile tongue torching mine. I'd grown shameless and didn't care.

"My mother would be mortified at my wanton behavior," I said.

"You were raised to be a good girl and save yourself for a suitable marriage partner?"

"Yes and to avoid dark dangerous men like you."

"Smart woman dispensing excellent advice."

But my situation was hopeless. I wanted Ben every minute.
Sorry, Mom
. I dropped the robe and straddled him, feeling his ready manhood press against my moist womanhood. He opened his hand and dropped a condom on the bed. I worked it in place.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"Extremely. Now that you have me in your merciless clutches, I still won't reveal the secret formula," he said.

"Not only will you tell me, you'll cook up a batch to go," I said.

I rode him steadily, accepting his praise and responding to his urgings. We shifted positions. I didn't keep track of the number of times I peaked, but his rousing crescendo ended the first day's business.

"You're killing me. On the one-to-ten scale, you are a two hundred and fifty. I didn't know I was capable of so much. One touch and I can't stop. Where have you been all my life?" he asked as he sprawled out on the bed.

"Honing my skills," I said, resuming my position on top of him.

"Are you hungry? You need some meat on you." He rubbed his unshaven face into my rib cage. Tickled and stimulated at the same time.

"Yes, you interrupted my lunch, and now it's almost dinnertime."

"Really, Alexia, we have to get some work done. After dinner, you have to leave me alone."

"It will be a struggle, but I promise never to touch you again." Impossible promise to make.

"Now don't go overboard. When it's time for bed, we'll go back into our exploratory mode," he said.

"I should start sleeping alone again. It's unprofessional to sleep with the boss." I rolled off of him and sat up.

"Are you kidding? In this organization it's the only way to be promoted."

He pounced at me. I thought about struggling, but conceded and let him kiss me.

"Now I'll go upstairs, order dinner, and you can come up when you're ready. What do you like on your pizza?" He got up and dressed.

"Everything plus garlic and hot giardiniera. You are playing havoc with my diet. I'm living on fast food and sex."

"Should I add some chocolate to round out the food groups?"

"Yeah, I like the way you think," I said.

"Remember it's come as you are." He tossed the robe to me and left.

What will happen when he finished with me? I needed to slow down before I gave too much.

I called my sisters and left messages. I had to save my strength for their questions and lectures.

Oh, to be an only child.

I sat at Ben's dining room table and devoured my pizza. A chocolate and caramel candy bar, from Kevin's, Irene's deceased fiancé, family's company, rested next to my plate. I never mixed courses, but dessert called to me. Papers were neatly stacked in front of me.

"Do you have time to wade through the mail?" he asked.

"Of course, that's why I make the big bucks."

He sat next to me, signed one pile, and answered my questions from the other pile.

By eleven o'clock, we were both exhausted.

"Will you stay tonight?" he asked.

"Is there a condom factory in the basement? We've gone through at least two boxes."

"Are you using birth control?"

"Most of the time."

Did I take a pill this morning or last night? That was a good question.

"I took a shower, and my mom said the water washes everything away." Or was she kidding?

"Remind me not to ask anyone in your family for medical advice. If it were true, Lake Michigan's beaches would be packed year round."

"If you're trying to scare me, you're doing a damn good job." I ripped open my candy bar and took a big bite.

"I'm stating facts. If Mother Nature is keeping tabs on us, our number might be called."

"Maybe you're sterile. Have you fathered any offspring?"

"I haven't been informed as of this press date. How about you?" He sat back and rocked his chair.

"I haven't had children, as a father or a mother."

"Good, we're even. I don't wish to arouse the Fates, but I would like you to live here. It would make the work run smoother, and I want you here every night."

"It might be best to wait and see. Everything is happening in hyper drive. I'm not sure I'll be able to keep up with you."

I started to reshuffle the papers in front of me and almost toppled a glass of wine on them. Why was I nervous? Because I haven't cohabitated since I shared a room with my sisters when we were kids.

"Then I'll slow down. I didn't mean to upset you," he said.

"I'm not upset. I'm tired and need sleep."

I stood up and he took my hand. He kissed it and escorted me to the door.

"I'll see you in the morning." He leaned in and kissed my cheek.

"Leave the papers, and I'll finish them tomorrow."

Back in my condo, I didn't sleep, but adhered to my principle. Absence made the heart grow fonder or increased my chances of being an insomniac. And counted the days until my period started, just to be sure.

In the morning, he had a meeting with bankers, and I went back to the library floor.

I mailed responses, typed letters, filed, and started a new question pile for him. I logged on to his computer. Using his password, I accessed his email: one hundred and five messages. To screen, save, print, delete, or answer? Those were the questions. I took out a pad of paper and started at the top.

He was internationally famous. There were requests from all over the world. A museum in Bonn, Germany, wanted to rent three paintings for a year. Any three would do. It offered five million dollars. Schoolchildren in Wales had sent him critiques of his mother's books. They had read their parents' and the library's copies. All were worn and torn from use. Could he please send them replacements? A women's auxiliary in Melbourne, Australia, planned to dedicate a children's hospital named after his mother. Would he come? The list of requests made me dizzy.

I decided to take a break.

The phrase 'cooler by the lake' in the summer in Chicago was a joke. It was the scorching heat coupled with the sweat drenching humidity every day. The skyscrapers reflected the sun back into my eyes. Forget sunglasses, I needed a UV shield.

"Want a ride lady?" Mark emerged from the apartment building and pointed to the car at the curb.

"How did you know I was here?"

"Ben told me to hang around today just in case you needed to go anywhere."

"Will you have lunch with me?"

"I haven't walked in years, but since you asked so nicely, I'll make an exception."

I took his arm, and we headed down the sidewalk to Michigan Avenue.

"How did you meet Ben?" I asked.

"He caught me trying to steal his car," he stated proudly.

"What?"

"I hot-wired his Swedish sports car. He got in the passenger side and pinned me to the seat with a tire iron. He had ice in his voice when he politely informed me that I was not welcome to his car. If I wanted a legitimate job, I had to stop stealing. Time to come clean and straighten out. He gave me his card. Three days later, I called him and have been in his majesty's service ever since. Twelve years ago, I was sixteen. No one had ever given me a chance or a break. A high school dropout and pegged as a loser by my parents. Ben offered me a bone, and I grabbed it with both hands."

He did the same for me. Was I his latest project or charity case?

Ben offered me a chance for glory, an excellent job opportunity, a beautiful home, and the possible love of my life. For better or worse. For richer, for poorer? He had the power to do good and used it. No wonder everyone mobbed him.

We settled into a booth at an Italian restaurant and ordered the specials.

"How do you like your job?" Mark asked me over his lasagna.

"I'm swamped. I didn't realize being Benjamin Nance Cobb is a career in itself. Who handled it before me?" I sprinkled red pepper flakes over my antipasto plate of marinated artichoke hearts, Genoa salami, garlic stuffed green olives, roasted peppers, focaccia bread, soft mozzarella and pepperoni.

Mark hesitated.

"No one. Ben let it slide. People see it as part of his mystique. He keeps track of the investments and his mom's stuff. The rest he blows off."

"I wonder why he's interested now."

"His dad's been after him. Ben is a multi-millionaire by birth. His father's loaded. His mom's estate, which is all Ben's, has unlimited potential. If he ever merchandises her books and signs off on other paraphernalia, it will be a gusher. Plus his earnings haven't been completely tapped. He should paint and sell. The few that have been on the market have sold for millions of dollars. People are clamoring at the gate. Ben has to do something. Your timing is flawless. He searched for a competent person, and you knocked on his door," he said.

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