Destructively Alluring Read online

  My hands desperately circled her waist, slowly sliding up her torso and moving towards her breasts, where I fully intended to rip apart the buttons in my way. I was dying to get at her tits. My entire awareness, all of my concentration, was zoomed in on the need to feel and see her.

  Nothing else mattered.

  My phone started ringing. The sound brought us back to reality, freezing all movement, and we were left there, pressed against each other and panting roughly as it continued to ring.

  I couldn’t bring myself to pull away from her embrace in time to answer the phone. The call went to voicemail and as soon as I heard who was on the line, I almost lost my shit right there.

  “Hey, Dorian. Stephen here. I called Demitra’s desk but she isn’t answering-”

  I jumped away from Demitra as if I’d been burned, scrambling to pick up the phone as fast as I could.

  “Hey, Stephen,” I said, too fucking cheerfully, and fuck me harder because I knew damned well that I sounded breathless.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Demitra slowly lowering herself off the desk. My body railed at me, telling me to hang the fuck up so I could attack her and finish what we had started, but I refused to give in.

  Couldn’t give in.

  I segued into some pointless conversation with Stephen. I think I told him I sent Demi on an errand but couldn’t be sure. My brain was still trapped in a lust-induced haze that was becoming harder and harder to push back.

  All I really heard was the tidal wave of guilt and shame that was barraging me as I had her father on the other line. A man that was trusting me with her welfare and who would absolutely kill me if he found out what had almost happened a mere minute ago.

  What is wrong with you? You act as if you’ve never had pussy before!

  Hers. It was hers. I’d never had hers. And I needed to be inside her pussy so badly that I was losing my common sense.

  She’s a girl! A young girl that her father has trusted you with!

  And I fucking know that!

  “Dorian? Are you there?”

  “Huh? Oh, yeah. Sorry. Something just popped up on my screen,” I lied, feeling like a total asshole over it.

  “That’s fine. Just tell Demitra to call me when she gets back. See you tonight,” Stephen said, barely waiting for my own goodbye before hanging up.

  Demitra was off the desk and I could feel her standing somewhere behind me. Just knowing that she was there made my cock throb painfully. I ran a hand through my hair, inhaling deeply and reaching deep inside myself for the necessary will to walk away. I could sense the tension spreading between us, tainting the air and beginning to suffocate us both.

  I should’ve said something then, anything, but I was too ashamed of myself and the intensity of my reaction to her. Ignoring her presence had proven to be easier then turning to her and speaking.

  I know I should’ve at least turned to see if she was alright. But I knew that if I laid one eye on her, I was going to forget why I shouldn’t touch her. I didn’t even say where I was going. I just took off and didn’t stop until I was outside my office.

  I don’t know why I thought I could escape. I mean, I could leave the office but where was I really going to go? The girl was my intern and even if she wasn’t, she was Stephen’s daughter. There was no way that I could get away from her presence that easily. Not for long. Admittedly, I was panicking and I ran away like a fucking coward.

  A lot of good it would do me.

  The next few days were about to get unbelievably awkward. Even worse would be the

  upcoming weeks. The physical hunger that I had for her wasn’t going anywhere and neither was Demitra.

  Things were about to get more complicated than I could’ve ever imagined. And it would all revolve around my idiocy.

  Because, really, what else could it be called? I knew where it was going. I knew in my gut that the way that we had left things wouldn’t be the end of us.

  And still, I tried to ignore the blazing fire that burned between us. Like I said, idiot.

  2

  Three weeks later…

  “Mr. Sorenson, you have a visitor .”

  Her throaty voice nailed into me again.

  I tensed, nostrils flaring as I stared ahead and tried to breathe and get myself back under control. I was so lost in my ‘Demi-fog’ that I didn’t hear the door to my office open. I did, however, almost immediately catch sight of who it was and the moment I saw her, I was out of my seat.

  “Monica. What are you doing here?” I asked, watching as she sashayed her way into my office.

  Monica was an old friend, for lack of a better term. Honestly, she was also a once-in-awhile lover, one that was always conveniently at hand whenever we crossed paths. I hadn’t invited her over, though, so seeing her had taken me by surprise.

  “Hello, Dorian,” Monica said, the tone of her voice lowering across the syllables of my name in that way it always did when she had something specific in mind.

  Fuck. Had she come for an impromptu hook-up? Because I really didn’t think I could make things work right at the moment…

  Or at any other moment, to be honest.

  Shit.

  “Dorian,” Monica repeated softly, shaking her perfectly coiffed head.

  Dark haired and tanned, Monica was first-generation American, the daughter of a wealthy Italian business tycoon who had expanded to the states before moving here and settling down. She was a beauty with her hazel eyes, there was no doubt of that, but aside from being a brilliant businesswoman she was what you would call ‘emotionally inept’.

  Everything hinged on money and looks with her. Nothing new in my world, but my parents had taught me to look beyond those things alone. “Monica,” I repeated, inclining my head. “What can I do for you?”

  Monica smiled at me, a smile that I knew very well and a smile that left no doubt as to what she wanted. “Did you forget we have a date tonight?”

  Oh, fuck. I’d been beyond preoccupied. Of course I’d forgotten all about her.

  Hell, I’d also forgotten about the benefit tonight and the fact that we’d agreed months ago to go together. “Of course not,” I lied anyway, stepping from behind my desk. “But the benefit isn’t until seven. I have a lot to do beforehand. Why the early visit?”

  I leaned against the front of my desk and crossed my arms, watching as she walked closer. The way her eyes travelled my form was definitely unmistakable and at any other time of my life -oh, say, about three months ago- my cock would have jumped to attention at the invitation.

  Surprise, surprise. Given the current state of things, my body wasn’t getting with the program. At all. And the mere thought of fucking Monica in the office while Demitra was outside only served my nonresponse-issue more. To say that the idea didn’t appeal to me in the least would be putting it mildly.

  “Dorian,” Monica said, getting too close for me or my body’s liking. “I think we both know why I’m here,” she continued, stepping in front of me and leaving merely an inch of space to spare.

  Fucking hell. Move before she gets the wrong idea.

  Good point, but for some reason, I felt trapped. The amount of space between us left only one option: push her away so I could get away. I didn’t want her but I didn’t want to risk insulting her, either.

  What a fucking predicament.

  “Monica, I’m really busy. I really need to get these papers done before the benefit tonight,” I responded. I settled for brushing her off instead, hoping she’d just fucking buy it and leave. It would give me enough time until tonight when I would have to come up with a more believable excuse as to why I couldn’t sleep with her.

  Or better yet, find a way to get my body to fucking respond to the attractive woman before me.

  Monica gave me a penetrating look, one that clearly stated she could tell something was odd about the way I was acting. She took a step closer and didn’t even give me a chance to react. She just pressed her body against mine
and wrapped her arms around my neck.

  “What’s wrong, Dorian? You weren’t this…off last time we saw each other.”

  “Monica, honestly. I have pressing issues to take care of,” I protested lightly, reaching for her arms and wondering how to extricate myself without offending her completely. Which I truly felt I was mere seconds away from doing.

  She was right, I knew this. The last time I saw her, months ago, we were still sticking to our ‘agreement’. We saw each other, we fucked. Plain and simple. It was an extremely convenient agreement and one that I had never thought of backing out of while I was still single.

  Never, that is, until today.

  “Come on, Dorian. It’s been a while on all counts.” And she pulled my head down, pressing her lips insistently upon my own.

  I momentarily froze, searching inside me for the necessary response. All the stimulation my body had recently been under had left it sexually starved. By all accounts, I should’ve been jumping at this chance to get relief. But as deprived as my body was, I could feel nothing.

  Worse than that, my mind instantly forced me back to that day three weeks ago. The feel and taste of Demitra. Both beyond compare and enough to make Monica’s touch utterly obsolete.

  Anger and futility were pounding through me. Monica tilted her head, clearly intent on deepening our kiss just as I was about to reach up and pull us apart.

  A loud crash managed to make us jump away from each other. Turning, the first thing I registered was the rapidly spreading brown stain on my white carpet. Next, the tray, its contents scattered around the floor.

  I saw the little hands rushing to pick everything up and was away from Monica so fast, I didn’t even realize I was moving until I was mere feet away from Demitra’s kneeling form. I had no doubt that she had just seen Monica and I. Heart pounding, I kneeled in front of Demi, intent on helping her. “Ms. Davis let me-”

  “No!” Demitra cried, her panicked face rising just enough for me to see how red she was. “I…I mean, no thank you, Mr. Sorenson. I got it,” she said, adjusting her glasses and looking back down.

  Something in my chest clenched at the sight. “I insist,” I said softly, picking up the scattered sugar packets and their holder. I dumped them into it and went to hand her the holder when our hands bumped.

  Heat roared through me. There was no mistaking the way she recoiled away from me. Something in my stomach soured in response.

  “I made the mess. I said I got it,” Demitra said softly, her face so red at that point that I was starting to get worried. She hurriedly put all the items back on the tray, then silently held it out to me, clearly waiting for me to place the sugar holder back on it.

  It was then that I finally got a good look at her eyes. She was furious, there was no doubt. And-

  Dear God, were those tears? She was blinking rapidly but I could still see the glossy sheen overcoming those baby-blues.

  “I’m very sorry,” she repeated once I placed the holder back on the tray. She wouldn’t meet my eyes as she stared at the stain on the carpet. “I’m really sorry about the mess…” I saw her eyes flicker towards Monica. “And I’m very sorry for interrupting, too. I’ll go get some new coffee and I’ll call the carpet cleaners right away. My apologies, Mr. Sorenson.”

  And with that, she was gone, jogging lightly out of the office before I could even think of saying anything.

  I stood up slowly, eyes still frozen on where she’d just been and my thoughts racing.

  I knew what Demitra had seen and what she was thinking. While I was a ‘free’ man and therefore had every right to touch whomever I wanted, the look in Demi’s eyes had seared me. Something in my gut felt wrong and the idea of that girl’s feelings being hurt didn’t sit fucking well with me.

  Not one bit.

  Just let it go. This is for the best. It’s better that she thinks you’re unavailable.

  “Clumsy little thing, isn’t she?”

  I turned, seeing Monica leaning against my desk and staring at her nails with a bored look. I’d almost forgotten she was still there. I bit back the surprisingly acidic remark I could feel bubbling in the back of my throat.

  “Poor you,” Monica continued, oblivious to the hardening look taking over my face. “If she wasn’t Stephen’s daughter, you wouldn’t have to put up with that.”

  I clenched my jaw, knowing that if I responded the way I really wanted to, I’d give her a reason to be suspicious. “I really do have things to attend to, Monica. I just don’t have the time right now,” I repeated, hoping she’d just take the damned hint.

  “Fine,” Monica let out with a sigh, her eyes rolling upwards. “What time will you be around to pick me up tonight?” she asked, moving away from my desk.

  The thought of going anywhere with her was quickly souring my mood but we’d agreed to attend together months ago.

  “Six,” I answered, more curtly then I should have, walking back to my desk and sitting behind it without sparing another glance at her.

  As empty-minded as Monica could be, she didn’t pick up on my coldness. Long after she’d gone, I sat at my desk, staring blankly at the stain on my carpet. It soon became apparent that Demitra wasn’t going to enter my office again unless absolutely necessary. My fresh coffee hadn’t even been delivered. All calls were promptly routed to me in a cold, professional manner and right before lunch, I was informed that the cleaning service would be by to assess the damage done to the carpet.

  Right after, I was told that she’d be leaving for the day.

  The moment I heard Demitra say that she was leaving early, I was out of my seat. I had no idea what the fuck I thought I was going to do, only that something in me was determined to not just let her leave like that. I exited my office just as Demi was standing up from her desk, purse in hand.

  “Demi - tra. Can we talk?”

  If the look on her face was any indication, talking to me was the last thing that she wanted to do. “I have to really go. I have to get ready and all that,” she said hurriedly, running around her desk and heading straight for the elevators.

  I wanted to call out to her, tell her to wait. No, fuck that. I wanted to demand that she stop and listen to me. But what was I going to say? A wave of fury flashed through me. A deep seated feeling of impotence raged inside me as I took in Demitra’s back. She ran into the elevator the moment it got there and then she was gone.

  Just like that.

  I swallowed, jaw ticking. I almost turned and walked back into my office but something on her screen caught my eye. I turned back towards Demi’s desk, knowing that what I was about to do was wrong. Then again, what was obviously an open email on the screen could be work related, which at that point I was well within my right as her boss to read it.

  But what if it wasn’t work related?

  What else could it be, you dickwad? You’re losing your mind. Step away from her desk and get your ass back to work.

  My guilty conscious was right. It was so fucking right. And obviously much wiser than me because I didn’t stop. Not even for a second. I kept going until I was leaning right over her computer.

  I regretted it. Almost immediately. I told myself to stop reading as soon as I saw the subject line, but did I listen?

  Of course not, I’m an idiot!

  From: Keith Bennett

  Subject: Can’t wait to see you tonight :)

  Hey,

  Wanted to check with you one last time. I’m going to be at your place around six. Is that ok? I’m guessing we can make it right on time for the whole thing to start.

  I’m stuck in this damned meeting for the next half hour but I wanted to send you a quick email. I know you hardly ever check your phone while working.

  Can’t wait to see you. Our date is the only thing keeping me sane today :p

  -Keith

  The one thing that distracted me from the intense focus I had on the screen was the loud sound coming from my right. And that sound just happened to be my fis
t.

  Slamming down.

  Hard.

  So hard I was surprised that I didn’t dent the wood of the desk. I stared at my fist, on the verge of hyperventilating as another wave of rage flooded through me. I had no right to be angry. No right to the possessive torrent barreling through my veins.

  I knew this.

  I knew all the logical reasons why that email should mean nothing to me, why it shouldn’t affect me the way it did.

  But it did.

  It fucking did, ok?

  I turned away from her desk, head pounding. I knew there was no way in hell I was going to be able to return to my work. Not with all the anger and questions burning through me.

  Who was this Keith?

  Were they seeing each other?

  Where were they going tonight?

  Was he fucking touching her?

  Would she want him to?

  Holy shit.

  I exhaled roughly, pulling at my hair and staring at the ceiling of my office as I tried to bring myself under control. I was a thirty-one year old man. There was no room in my life for such juvenile emotions, damn it!

  Jealousy isn’t juvenile.

  Ok, fine, but what the fuck did I have to be jealous about?

  Him. With her. Their date tonight. Whatever might be transpiring between them during said date.

  What the fuck? Why the sudden turn around? Hadn’t that stupid voice in my head been talking me out of listening to my lust for her just two seconds ago?

  I grabbed my phone off my desk, dropping it and my keys into my pocket. I had somewhere to be tonight, a very important benefit being held by a huge nonprofit organization that my company -amongst several others- was affiliated with.

  I had no time to fixate on Demitra or Keith and what they’d be doing together.

  Stupid asshole. Douchebag name. Fucking prick.

  No time to fixate, huh? Yeah, good luck with that.

  3

  After having my hair trimmed, I headed home to change. I hated having to cut my hair period but at the expense of sounding like a little bitch, it was something I had to do for appearances sake. One thing I missed about my childhood was being able to run around and not give a fuck about the unruly curls that were too long and hanging around my face.