would think about food at a time like this, and giggled nervously at the image dancing in her head.
Michael reached out and touched her right breast and she felt faint. Her eyes drifted shut for an instant then shot open when his fingers began to play with her clit.
Oh…my…God. He’s not going to do that, is he? Oh…yes…he…is!
He was on his knees and his mouth replaced his fingers.
Barbara’s inner thighs trembled and even her firm behind vibrated. She grabbed his shoulders in a death grip to keep from falling on the floor.
Michael languidly rose, nipping her skin as he did.
Somehow Barbara found herself supine on her bed with every nerve ending jumping for joy.
When Michael entered that dark space that had been empty for so long she wanted to shout hallelujah. Instead, she cried out, “Michael.”
Barbara lay curled next to the warmth of Michael’s body. The wonder of what had transpired between them had her thoughts and head swimming upstream. Ann Marie was right. It was like riding a bike. She hadn’t forgotten a thing and learned some new tricks along the way. And when Michael told her again that she was beautiful—she felt it and she believed.
She’d wanted to spend the rest of the day jumping for joy, spinning around naked in her room, reveling in her newfound sexuality. But the practicality of life took root. She’d just made love to a man-child. It felt damn good, there was no doubt about it, and she wanted more and more. That was her fear. So when Michael asked to stay with her for the rest of the day and night, she said no. And then told him on his way out the line that most men give women, “I’ll call you.”
So here she was, still tingling from the afterglow, sitting in her best girlfriend’s house, whose life was in a shambles and she didn’t have the heart to spill her own tale all over Elizabeth’s perfectly polished kitchen table.
Chapter 9
Stephanie listened to the phone ring and checked the number on the caller ID. Conrad. Her heart began to race.
Things had gone too far. Conrad was out of control. She pressed her fist to her mouth as she listened to his voice on the answering machine.
“Steph, if you’re there pick up. We need to talk. Stephanie, pick up. I know you’re home. Your car is parked out front.”
She ran to the window and peeked out from between the slats in the blinds five stories below. Conrad’s silver Lexus was in front of her door.
“Open the door or I’m using my key.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. In a stupid moment of lust she’d given him her spare key so that he could “slip between her and her sheets whenever he wanted.” She would have to get the locks changed and pronto.
She finger fluffed her short do, smoothed her lemon yellow fitted sweater top over her tight jeans and picked up the phone. “I’m here,” she murmured and felt ill.
“I’ll be right up.”
Stephanie sat in the armchair facing the door as she heard the locks release and watched the knob turn. She slid her hand down between the cushion and felt the security of cold metal brush her fingers. She’d shoot him if she had to. Simple as that.
Conrad walked in, all smiles, and when she looked at him, for a moment she forgot everything she’d promised herself to remember; that he was using her, that he’d physically hurt her, that he was never going to leave his wife and that she wasn’t getting any more promotions if she wasn’t putting out any more of her body. He’d made that clear the other night.
Instead, she thought about how he made her feel, how he’d awakened the dormant sexuality in her that had spun out of control, how he’d been the first man in her life to help her experience a real orgasm. That had never happened to her before, until she’d met Conrad. He made her do things that she’d only imagined, and she enjoyed it. And he’d become more demanding as the months progressed. As much as he’d begun to disgust her, he still thrilled her, and that was worse than anything else.
“Hey, baby.” He crossed the room, leaned down and kissed her long and slow.
“Hi,” she whispered when he stepped back.
He looked down at her. “You look tired. Long night?”
That tone was in his voice, the cajoling, demanding tone that preceded the innuendos and accusations.
“Not really.” She shrugged. “Just an evening with the girls.”
“Hmm.” He took his jacket off and tossed it on the couch. “The girls, huh? You sure about that?” His dark eyes grew hard, the line between his brow deepened.
Her breath tightened in her chest. “Of course I’m sure.” She stood. He pushed her back down in the chair then leaned over her, locking her in place with his hands on either side of the chair’s arms.
“Sure there were no guys there?”
“No,” she croaked.
“I don’t believe you.” He pulled her up by the wrist and up to his chest. His arm wrapped around her body. He pressed his lips to her neck and inhaled her scent. “Show me what you did,” he said in an urgent whisper.
“I…didn’t do anything.”
“I don’t believe you.” He bit down on her neck and sucked it gently, then with more urgency. “Show me.” His free hand slid up her sweater. She trembled at his touch.
“Conrad…please…”
“Yes, I know, baby…”
He lowered her to the floor and as much as she hated what he was doing to her body, she couldn’t find the will to resist. Her cries were as much in ecstasy as they were ones for help.
Conrad looked down at her huddled on the floor as he zipped his pants. He smiled as if he truly cared about her. “We have a major new client coming in on Monday. I want you to run the program. You’re the best, and if anyone can land this big fish you can.”
She turned her head away and tried to cover her shame with her discarded sweater, even as her body still throbbed with pleasure.
“And I promise you, Steph, if you get the account, your bonus will be your biggest ever.” He knelt down beside her and with a tenderness that made her heart constrict, he stroked her cheek. “You’re so beautiful, you know that.” His eyes ran over her face. He took his fingertip, placed it beneath her chin and turned her to face him. “Beautiful,” he said again. “And talented…on many levels. That’s why I love you, why I want you at my side.” He lowered his head and kissed her, then abruptly stood.
“I have to go. Son has a basketball game this afternoon.” He adjusted his clothes then picked up his jacket from the couch. “I’ll probably be back tonight. Late. Wait up for me.”
She nodded. He turned to leave. If she could find the strength, she could reach into the chair cushion, take out
