Weak for Him (7 page)

I pulled up my
big-girl-who-just-had-an-orgasm-in-her-boss's-office panties and
swooshed my messy curls to the side as I buttoned my pants. The
room was suffocating and I couldn't breathe.

When I made it to the elevator all
I could do was call him an asshole repeatedly.
Fucking asshole,
asshole, asshole!

On the fifth floor, Jesse stepped
into the elevator, and when the door shut, she laughed. Not a
genuine one, but rather an evil bitch laugh. The type of laugh that
only she could conjure from the pits of hell.

"What?" I asked smugly.

"You're wearing a J.B.F
face."

"J.B.F?"

"Seriously?
Just been
fucked
, dumbass, and you smell like sex."

I crossed my legs and could feel
the wetness in my panties.

When the glass elevator doors
opened, all I wanted to do was burst through the lobby and never
look back. But wait, people actually smelled like sex? And she
could smell it? Either way, I was convinced that everyone in that
building were nothing more than giant assholes.

Anger coated me as realization set
in. I had given that womanizing dickhead the pleasure of giving me
my first orgasm.

Damn it!

I should have slapped that
asshole's pretty face when I had the chance.

Eight

W
arm air hit my face. All I
wanted to do was get rid of the electric current that ran through
my bones. Forget about the ache between my legs and jumbled
thoughts in my mind. I've never been looked at the way Mr. Felton
looked at me. Or touched, or spoken to in a manner that made me
feel… what? Sexy? Dirty?

Now get out.
The words were
short and simple, but held so much within them. The vengeance in
his voice, the hate in his eyes, made me want to punch him in the
throat. But his throat led up to his chiseled jaw and pouty lips,
and those eyes and cheekbones. Oh fuck, those eyes.

Mr. Felton seemed so proper in his
pressed black suit and blue tie with his hands in my
panties.

But would I do it again? In a
fucking heartbeat.

I went to the hotel and tried to
forget the whole situation although I knew that was impossible. I
watched stupid girl movies and ordered from room service! Hello
Friday night!

All night long, my mind spun until
eventually the time blurred. Hours and seconds melted into one
long-lived experience, one that I hoped I didn't look back at in
ten years and regret.

What had happened? I had agreed to
be a call girl. Agreed to sell my virginity. Mr. Felton placed his
hands down my pants. I had smelled like sex. Jesse hated me. I
watched stupid girl movies that didn't make me feel any better
about myself. All facts.

The soft hotel sheets covered my
almost-naked body. I stretched and threw the covers off and opened
the curtains in the room.

"Well hello, Lady Luck. Don't be a
bitch today," I whispered to the busy city streets. The unknown
thrilled me and scared the crap out of me; a wicked mix of
conflicting emotions whirled within.

Every move I made always required
detailed planning, calculations of possible outcomes, with the
worst scenario having its own backup plan. I never imagined
becoming a call girl, never in my sexiest dreams.

Before I completely lost track of
my emotions, I decided to call Abbie. I didn't care what time it
was there, I needed to talk to her, confide in her, and tell
someone what I was up to just in case something bad happened. I
watched way too much
CSI
.

After I clicked her name from my
favorites, I sat on the edge of the bed and waited for her to
answer.

Nothing.

As soon as I hung up, I had a
call.

"Mornin'." I tried to put as much
cheeriness in my voice as I could muster.

"This better be important. You
know how much I hate mornings." And boy did I. She hated them like
I hated the taste of coconut, or being alone, or even how I hated
getting my feet wet when it rained. If the sun never shined again
in the morning, I think Abbie would have been perfectly okay with
that. She was such a grump before 10:00 a.m.

"I love how you hate mornings.
Anyway. I'm sorry, Ab. I. I needed to talk to you."

When she responded, her voice was
raspy and full of annoyance, but then softened.

"You took the job, didn't
you?"

"Yes."

Silence.

Complete and utter silence filled
the other line. I actually thought I heard the phone
drop.

"Wait, what? Have you lost your
damn mind?"

"You said to keep my options
open."

"I didn't mean
that
,
Jennifer."

I somewhat expected this reaction
from her. I really did and I needed it. I needed to know that
someone cared. That someone could pull me from the darkness if I
ever got lost.

"Abbie."

"Jennifer Antoinette."

Usually, I wanted people to call
me Jennifer Ann, but no, everyone had to say the full name. What
the hell was my mother thinking?

"You've got to be shitting me.
You're a virgin. Virgins can't be call girls unless…" She trailed
off and stopped talking mid-sentence. We both knew there were
plenty of sexual acts a person could perform without compromising
their virginity.

"You don't have to do this, you
know. You're smart. Pretty. You graduated in the top of your class
at the University of Houston. You were always the one to make the
best decisions. And you don't really need the money. I just… I
don't know what to say."

"I'm getting paid thirty
thousand."

"That's it?"

"A month."

Silence, once again.

"…and my boss' office has the best
view of the city."

"Did you have sex with
him?"

"No. No. It isn't like
that."

"Are you lying? Something is up I
can tell by your tone change."

That's the only thing that sucked
about Abbie. She knew me. She knew me so well that she could tell
if I was lying even with hundreds of miles between us. Even if I
wasn't telling the whole truth, she knew. Abbie could read me like
an open book.

"Are you sure you didn't have sex
with him?"
The question made me flush.

"What? No!"

"Would you?"

"No! I would never do that, Ab. I
can't. He's my boss and… I've agreed to sell my
virginity."

"You are a
dirty, little
slut
."

Yesterday I would have let him
throw me across the floor and make me his rug. He could have
slammed me against the window and fucked me crazy in front of the
city. I would have let him. I was so turned on, he could have done
whatever he wanted with me. But the rules stated: immediate
termination if one fell in love with another employee or client. It
never specifically stated anything about having sex with another
employee. But is sex ever
really just
sex? The stupid girl
movies didn't think so. As long as I was an Elite, we were both
equally unavailable because he was my fucking boss.

Critical thinking skills kicked
into overdrive, and I had to stop before I drove myself off the
crazy cliff. It was all a bit complicated.

More silence passed, and Abbie
spoke up. "I'm just messing with you. Chill out."

We laughed about the rumors
floating around Mid-County and Abbie's last semester of
school.

"Hey, after graduation, you should
move up here. I should have a place of my own by then."

I smiled at the thought of her
being here. If Vegas could suck the wild out of me in less than a
week, when Abbie arrived, I would completely lose all
straight-edged inhibitions.

Between the two of us, she was the
beauty, and I was the brain. Mischief was her middle name, or
should have been. Abbie would do anything to get a rise out of
people or to steal the spotlight. Trouble to her was like a flame
to a moth. Being drawn to that type of behavior, while being
surrounded by Sin City, was a slush pile of madness waiting to
happen.

"Vegas couldn't handle me," she
finally said, half-jokingly.

But could she handle
Vegas?

"If you're still there after I
graduate, I'll move. I miss you."

"Promise?"

"Absolutely."

A promise from Abigail Green was
as good as gold. She only had four months until she graduated. I
knew I would still be here at that time. But before I could say
another word, three knocks pounded on my door.

Knock-knock-pause-knock
.

"Hey, Ab. That's a deal. Four
months and you'll be here."

I looked through the peephole, and
there stood Mr. Hands-in-my-pants.

"Shit, it's my boss," I lowered my
voice.

"Your bossy boyfriend?"

"You have no idea how bossy he is,
and he isn't my boyfriend. Actually he's a huge
asshole."

"Whatever you say. Take care.
Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"That's saying a lot,
considering."

"What's that supposed to
mean?"

Knock. Knock.
Pause
.
Knock.

"Nothing. Gotta go. Love
you."

"Love you too, sis."

I quickly slipped on my bra and
panties and rushed around looking for my clothes.

"Open the fucking
door."

Damn. Most of my clothes were
packed in the dirty laundry bag, and I didn't have time to search
through my closet. I heard another knock, knock, and on the pause I
swung open the door before Mr. Felton's hand could give the
third.

Nine

"
O
ne sec. I need to get
dressed."

I tried to close the door, but he
moved his hand in the way and let himself in.

"I'll wait inside."

He studied every part of my body,
stopping at my breasts, then trailing down my flat stomach before
meeting my eyes.

"Why are you here?"

"You know what they say about
women who wear black lingerie?" He leaned on the
doorframe.

"Not exactly."

"It means they want someone to
see."

"To be fair, I wanted to get
dressed. But you insisted."

"That's what they all
say."

"So
why
are you
here?"

"Today you leave this coffin of a
room. You're moving into my house."

"Excuse me? What if I don't want
to?"

"Then you shouldn't have signed
the contract without legal advice, Ms. Downs."

He sat on the edge of the bed and
waited for me to get dressed and pack my bags. I double—and
triple—checked to make sure nothing was left behind. But no matter,
the forgetting-something feeling always persisted. I hummed
Fly
Me To The Moon
in the bathroom while I brushed my teeth and
then stopped, and thought I heard Mr. Felton humming it as well. I
had found myself humming a lot since yesterday. I peeked my head
from the bathroom door.

"Oh, you know that one? You're
telling me you aren't completely dead inside, and you actually
listen to music?" I said with a mouth full of toothpaste
foam.

"No one is
that
dead
inside."

"My favorite part is the
beginning."

As I slipped on a summer dress and
packed my toothbrush away, Mr. Felton stood.

"You're going to be bad for
business, you know?"

I swallowed hard, and he grabbed
my two bags.

"….Because you make me wait while
you lollygag around. Ready?"

I nodded, and we left the room and
made our way to the elevator.

"I can keep a better watch on you
in the house. Make sure you don't do anything ridiculous. You seem
to be a hazard."

"At least I'm not toxic," I
whispered and looked into the hotel mirrors watching every movement
he made. I thought I saw a smile creep across his face.

I dropped the room keys in the
little box and checked out of the hotel. The woman handed me a
receipt, winked at Mr. Felton, and then smiled. He returned the
gesture. Pure sex appeal on legs and a freak behind closed doors,
just my virgin luck.

Outside, the sight of the black
beauty parked in front made me gasp. I ran my hands over the curves
of the hood and fully took in the
Aston Martin Vanquish. V12.
Zero to sixty in 4.1 seconds. Zero to one hundred in ten.
The
way I lusted over cars, and speed and fresh leather wasn't normal.
I should have become a mechanic.

"I think I've fallen in
love."

Mr. Felton watched me and
laughed.