Authors: Jade Allen
****
This is so wrong,
she kept telling herself as she sipped from her champagne flute at Eric’s
kitchen nook. He was sitting right next to her, and their thighs were touching
all throughout breakfast.
This is wrong. Go home. Go home.
But she was feeling
too daring to go home. Eric’s eyes were darting to the window of cleavage
afforded by her blood red scoop-neck t-shirt, and she’d brushed her hair out so
it fell in shining waves past her shoulders. Her eyes were drawn to the muscles
of his biceps, and the way his tongue kept darting out to moisten his lips. He
was saying something about a board meeting when a question that had been on her
mind for three weeks straight slipped past her lips.
“Hey, Eric?”
He turned to her, his
green eyes hazy from the alcohol. “Yes, Cas?”
Her heart did a happy
tumble at the sound of her nickname. “You’re so intense. But I’ve seen you
interact with other people, and though you’re intense, you’re not…the same way
with me.”
She could swear that
his breathing stopped. “What do you mean?”
She set down her glass
and turned her gaze on him. “Why do you look at me the way you do? No one else
looks at me that way. Like…like you’re analyzing me. Like you’re figuring me
out.”
Eric smiled lazily.
“And you’re not used to that.”
Cassie shook her head,
feeling tipsier than she’d anticipated. “So you are? Trying to figure me out, I
mean?”
Eric put a hand on her
lower back, and her heartbeat accelerated. “Is that okay to you?”
Cassie’s mouth was
dry, and she had to try twice before she could successfully speak. “I don’t
know. I don’t know if I want to be figured out.” She placed both of her hands
on his shoulders and let him see the desire burning in her eyes. “But I don’t
want to stop you from trying.”
Eric pulled her toward
him and pressed his lips to hers hungrily, and her body cried out in joy. She
wrapped her arms around the breadth of his shoulders as he massaged her lips
with his, his hands slipping under her shirt to caress the silky warmth of her
bare skin. He stood and pressed her body tighter to his, his arousal pressing
against the front of her skirt, hard and heavy through his pants.
Cassie pulled back
from the kiss breathlessly. “Wait, Eric, are you sure you want to do this? I
work for you.”
“I don’t care,” he
said deliriously, his hands running lower on her body until the lifted her
skirt and grabbed her buttocks roughly. “I want you, Cassie.” Cassie moaned and
ground her hips against his reaction, desire echoing through her body like a
shockwave. A rush of moisture drenched the crotch of her panties, and the next
moment, Eric was kneeling and pulling them away from her body, planting hot
kisses on the soft skin of her thighs.
Cassie lifted her
shirt, letting her high, round breasts spring free as she leaned back against
the breakfast nook and parted her thighs. Eric gripped her hips firmly and
gazed up at her, his green eyes burning with need. He kept her gaze as he
slipped his tongue between her slick folds, and Cassie threw her head back and
shouted her pleasure to the heavens as Eric dragged his tongue around her clit
in long, slow licks.
“Eric!” Cassie
shouted, throwing one leg over his broad shoulder and grinding herself more
firmly against the force of his tongue. She couldn’t believe how perfect his
mouth felt on her body, and couldn’t imagine the kind of pleasure his member
would send through her.
Eric pulled away from
her suddenly as though he could read her mind. He placed his hands on her hips
and lifted her until she sat on the counter, kissing her roughly as her hands
fumbled at the clasp of his khakis. She could taste her own sweet essence on
his tongue, and her hand moved eagerly over the hot thickness of his shaft as
she pulled his cock free.
He didn’t waste any
time. Eric held one hand behind her head as he pushed his round head inside
Cassie’s warm velvety walls, and she cried out in ecstasy as his length
stretched and filled her for the first time. It was like they were two
interlocking puzzle pieces; every slow stroke felt perfectly tailored to her
body, expertly crafted to push her toward her most delicious edge.
“Cassie,” Eric moaned,
his thumb passing over her erect nipple as he slowly pumped between her thighs.
“Oh god, you’re the most incredible woman.”
His strokes grew
faster and harder, and Cassie could only whimper and tighten her arms around
him as his body collided with hers. Pleasure was streaking through her muscles
and enveloping her brain, carrying away all thought except the joyous sensation
of his hips pounding into hers. Eric’s hand fisted in her hair, and Cassie
cried out as her ecstasy reached its peak at the precise moment that her lover
reached his.
“Cassie!” he moaned,
throwing his body against hers with abandon. “I’m coming! I’m coming!”
Cassie arched her back
and screamed wordlessly as the slick walls of her pussy tightened and pulsed
around Eric’s thick, rigid shaft, his cries reaching a fever pitch as he
exploded inside her. His mouth covered her breasts in wet kisses as they both
twitched and moaned together, hips bucking together weakly to pull all the
pleasure from each other’s bodies.
She didn’t have time
to catch her breath before she was being carried to his bedroom and laid across
the bed. He wrapped his arms around her naked body and gazed down at her,
stroking her soft hair as she gazed at him wearily.
“Eric,” she said
softly, her eyelids growing heavier by the moment.
He smiled. “Yes?”
Cassie took a breath.
“I love you.”
His face went blank,
and for a moment, Cassie feared he wouldn’t respond. “I love you, too,” he said
finally.
Something in his tone
made her open her eyes. He was starting to turn away, but she put a hand on his
arm to top him. Eric was startled, but Cassie fixed him with a stare.
“Hey. What’s wrong?”
The look in his eye
was of pure terror. “I didn’t think it would get this far,” he said.
Cassie frowned and sat
up on the bed. “You mean…love?”
Eric covered his eyes
with his hands, and Cassie’s heart started to sink in her chest.
“Oh, no,” she said
quietly. “Do you have a girlfriend that I don’t know about?”
He looked up, his
anguish interrupted by surprise. “What? No.”
Cassie shook her head.
“Then what is it?” she demanded. Eric didn’t answer, so she took hold of his
chin and reputed her question. “Eric. Something tells me you think I’m going to
find out anyway, so tell me what it is. You just fucked my brains out; I think
I’m in a good enough mood. Come on, did you find the person sabotaging your
project already, and then hide it from me so you could get in my pants?” she
grinned at him to show him that she was joking, but when the panic in his haze
sharpened, her smile faded. “Oh, no. Oh, god…Eric. Have you been paying me so
you could woo me?”
His silence gave her
the answer.
“Eric, what the
fuck?!” Anger coursed through her, and she felt her heart start to gallop in
her chest. “How long have you known?”
Eric met her eyes
briefly. “A long time.”
Cassie scoffed. “So
who is it?”
Eric covered his hands
with his eyes again, a small sound of despair escaping his lips.
Cassie went numb with
shock. “Eric…no. It can’t be. It couldn’t be…”
He raised his green
eyes to hers, and they were brimming with tears. “I’m sorry, Cassie. I didn’t
mean for it to go this far.”
A bitter laugh burst
from her mouth. “You sabotaged your own project for some ass, Eric? Are you
fucking kidding me? You led me along just so you could fuck me?”
“No!” Eric said
desperately.
“Then why?”
“Because I wanted to
get to know you, Cassie,” he said, his voice pleading. “I wanted you to get to
know me.”
“Good idea, except the
part where you lied to me about everything!” she shouted, scooting away from
him on the bed as he tried to reach for her. “I can’t be with someone like
that, Eric—I can’t be with a liar.”
Eric was following her
as she raced through the apartment and pulled on her clothes. “I was so
impressed by you, Cassie, I just wanted to work with you. And then I fell in
love with you. I didn’t mean to.”
Cassie laughed in his
face as she pulled on her shirt. “Well, that makes it better. Have a nice life,
Eric. Don’t call me. I’ll bill you.”
“
Cassie!”
But she sprinted to
the road and was flagging down a taxi by the time he caught up with her. Cassie
sobbed in the back of the cab, unable to stop herself from watching Eric’s
place growing smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror.
****
Cassie wasn’t sure how
long it took her to stop crying. Hours maybe, or perhaps it was minutes. It was
nightfall when she left her house again, and that was only to check the mail.
She saw Eric’s silver Mercedes on the street and dashed back up before he could
even leave his car.
She wasn’t sure what
had hurt her more—that she’d been lied to, or that she’d fallen in love before
she figured out. She kept going over the last few weeks in her mind, trying to
find a warning or red flag that should have tipped her off. Cassie kept going
back to their first serious conversation about who was sabotaging his company;
once
the truth comes out in a case like this, bonds can be broken and never
repaired.
How right she’d been.
By the end of the
first week holed up in her apartment, Eric stopped calling, and his Mercedes
couldn’t be found outside on the street any longer. Her relief was enormous—but
she was surprised to find that she was more than a little disappointed, too.
Had his love for her dried up so quickly?
Don’t be stupid,
said a nasty voice in her head.
He never loved you—he just wanted to get in
your pants. Now that it’s over, he has no reason to try again.
She burned with rage
at the thought of him simply losing interest in her and the body he’d ravaged
so insatiably. Was she really so disposable to him? Cassie took another week
off work and spent it wandering the streets aimlessly, bumping into walls and
citizens at random as she tried to sort her jumbled thoughts and feelings.
Cassie hated to admit it, but Eric had given her a purpose beyond professional—she’d
felt important to someone for the first time in years. Maybe that was why she’d
been so upset with him; not because she felt disposable now, but because she’d
felt so invaluable before. Could it be possible that she liked feeling so desperately
needed—so desired that a man would concoct a wild scheme just to get close to
her?
Am I that crazy?
She thought—and then:
Do you have to be crazy to miss being madly in love?
Maybe. Probably. Cassie pushed open a door without reading a sign, and her
heart stopped when she realized where her legs had carried her: the bookstore
where she’d first met Eric.
Definitely crazy.
Cassie’s heart felt
strangely heavy as she strolled through the aisles, the cashier and bored shelf
stockers ignoring her like they had the first time. There was
The Joy of
Sex,
precisely where she’d picked it up last time. The arrangement of
spines looked just as dusty as they had before, and when she turned toward the
front of the store, she could swear Eric was standing right where she first
laid eyes on him. Then she did a double take, and her heart stopped.
“Cassie.”
Eric hurried toward
her, and Cassie stood, rooted to the spot by the panic and heartache mingling
in her chest. “Cassie, please, just let me say this.” He took her hands in his,
aquamarine eyes shining with sincerity. “I’m sorry I lied to you. I should
never, ever have lied to you. But you’re right—I have blind spots. Huge ones,
put there by money and the privilege it brings. One of those blind spots kept
me from realizing that all I had to do was be real with you—and let you come to
me yourself.”
Cassie gazed up at
him, her eyes wide and unblinking.
“I don’t have any
common sense—but please, don’t let that scare you away from me. I’m willing to
learn. I
want
to learn. And more importantly, I want to show you the way
you make me feel—so you understand why I’m so damn taken with you.” Eric
swallowed, and his Adam’s apple bobbed. “You make me feel like I’m the only one
who matters on Earth…and I’m so used to putting that idea out of my head in
favor of work or profit, that I didn’t realize I wanted and needed that kind of
love so badly.” He squeezed his hands. “Do you know what I mean by that?”
Cassie finally opened
her mouth to speak. “I think I do.”
Eric didn’t try to hide
his surprise. “So…will you give me another chance?”
Cassie paused. His
eyes were shining with such luster and love that she felt like she was being
warmed by the sun from the inside out. She did know exactly what he meant—Eric
was the only person immune to her shield of invisibility. Before him, she had
no idea being seen could feel so good. Cassie pulled him down and pressed her
lips to his hungrily, wrapping her arms around his neck as he slipped his hands
around her waist and melted into the kiss.
When he pulled back,
he looked dizzy and more than a little dazed. “So…that’s a yes?”
Cassie laughed. “Let’s
run another test and see.”
THE END
There was blood
everywhere. It coated the walls, the floor--there were even spurts on the
ceiling. Rayne held a double-ended canoe paddle in both hands and braced
herself;
this was not in the brochure.
Earlier…
Rayne had woken
groggily on the private jet; she had slung back far too many gins and her head
ached.
Twenty four
hours ago, she had sat at
her cubicle mopping smudged mascara, trying to explain to a group of
disgruntled accountants why all the fridge contents had to be cleaned out the
previous day.
“There were
intelligent life forms growing in that petri dish of yours. We had no other
choice but to abide by OSHA regulations before new forms of sentient life
became a real problem for us. You handle multi-million dollar accounts and can
find a tax loop-hole in the eye of a needle; why can’t you keep an eye on the
expiration dates of your food?”
After another thirty
minutes of discussing the implied freedoms of the communal fridge, Rayne lost
her nerve and threw a fistful of snotty tissues at the group. “Could you please
just get the fuck out of my cubicle and get back to work? If a gross fridge was
my biggest problem today, I would be your all-singing-all-dancing kind of HR
manager, but I’m not. Get out!”
After threats of
common assault were bantered about, Rayne’s director, Rod, stepped in and sent
the grim accountants back to their floor. In a gush of bubbly snot and stinging
black tears, Rayne revealed it all: her boyfriend of five years, Jason, had
been photographed with another woman, an infamous socialite with a penchant for
little dogs. Jason was a statistician; not exactly a sexy job, but he had
boyish charm--and apparently wandering hands. The photo had been taken when
they were sitting together, and from the torso up it looked fine, but the
camera caught activities happening below the small table they sat at.
Rayne had only become
aware of this when the pixelated version flicked onto her TV screen as she was
cooking dinner at home. Within moments, her phone had scuttled off the kitchen
bench in the dance of the many silent vibrations. Her social media page had
gone bonkers, too, with strangers and journalists trying to contact her. Jason
never did come home--
turned out he wasn’t at a statistics and budgetary
meeting that day after all
.
Rayne was gently
guided from the building by Rod and was told to consider an extended break until
the media buzz died down. Floating past the newsstands filled with full-page
reproductions of her boyfriend’s cheating--or, more likely, the unabashed shame
of the socialite--Rayne ambled to the subway, pulled out a worn paperback from
her bag and settled onto a bench to immerse herself into a story where the
almost-fiancés weren’t caught out on national media cheating with pretty
socialites.
Several people had
joined Rayne on her bench; one was a stylish woman with a glossy blonde
bouffant, designer coat and black patent stilettos. The woman was flipping
mindlessly through a thick glossy fashion magazine, paying only slight
attention to the fashion spreads. A rush of air across the platform signaled
the arrival of another train. The woman folded back several pages of her
magazine and tucked it under arm as she hoisted her large leather tote and
stepped into the crowd of commuters, disappearing among the throngs of beige
trench coats and black jackets. Just as the train was pulling out the station,
sucking another gush of air from the platform, Rayne felt a frantic fluttering
at her side; a business card had lodged itself into the slats of the bench.
Rayne picked it up and was surprised by the weight. It was made of a very
luxurious bright white card stock but felt like it contained something
heavier—almost as heavy as a credit card. Pressed cleanly into the card were
crisp black letters in a take-no-prisoners serif font:
YOUR PARADISE AWAITS…
The other side just
had a cryptic web address of letter and numbers. Rayne looked back to see the
final train carriage disappear from view;
the woman must’ve dropped this.
Rayne tucked the card into her book and continued reading, deciding to check
out the website once she was within Wi-Fi reach and see if she could drop the
card off.
Despite the lust and
romance that sprinkled the pages of her favorite books, opening the door of her
brownstone apartment brought Rayne back to her immediate future. Mentally
exhausted, Rayne began to boil water for tea, getting out her favorite mug.
Remembering the special business card tucked in her book, Rayne scrabbled
around looking for it before booting up her laptop.
Dropping onto the
couch, Rayne turned the card over in her hand and carefully typed in the long
URL, double-checking the letter and number sequence twice. Within a fraction of
a second of pressing the enter button, Rayne’s screen went black.
Of all the
people in the world to type in a link to a virus…
Then, the screen faded
into white; a set of black letters materialized and faded in a gentle sequence:
“Welcome to Eden. You
have been selected to join us for an exclusive getaway. Disappear into a
tropical island paradise. For your eyes only.”
Oh crap.
The screen changed to
show expensive resort imagery with sweeping tropical landscapes. After one
rotation through the images, a registration screen popped up demanding details.
Rayne searched the static page looking for contact details, but there was
nothing.
I can register, but
I’ll explain that it was a mistake and I’m looking for the right person.
Rayne typed in her
details and, after a moment of hesitation, pressed ‘submit’.
Another screen popped
up among a new gallery of resort images: “Thank you for registering. One of our
resort team members will contact you shortly.”
Rayne opened a new
search window and typed in “Eden Resort,” only to get back tens of thousands of
possible clues. She extended the search with “island paradise,” only to whittle
a couple of thousand from the list. Before Rayne could contemplate another search
term, her landline phone started ringing.
“Hello?”
“Hi, is this Rayne
Baker?” a bubbly woman’s voice echoed down the phone.
“Yes, who is this?”
“My name is Cassandra
from Eden Resort. We just received your registration.”
Wow, that was fast.
“Look, I’m glad you
called because I actually think this invitation was for someone else.”
“Was there a name on
the card?”
“No, just a web
address.”
The woman’s voice
brightened, “In that case, it’s very much your card. This is part of a secret
promotion Eden Resort is hosting prior to its official launch; I believe a few
cards were distributed through random circulation."
Smart PR move…
Rayne could hear
typing and clicking in the background. “You’re actually very lucky, Ms. Baker.
I've just checked the reservation, and it seems that you have been assigned the
Lotus Suite, one of the most expensive suites on the island. There’s yoga,
massage and private dining included in your package, which… yes, you’re
entitled to over $18,000 worth of value for a six day, seven night stay.”
“I’m sorry,
wha
t?
Did you say an
$18,000 stay
?”
“Yes.” The disembodied
voice was practically beaming down the phone.
“Do I need to purchase
anything for this?”
The woman laughed,
“No, not at all. It’s an exclusive invitation. A bit like what travel agents
get to review resorts.”
“So I am to review the
resort in exchange for over $18,000 of value?”
“That’s the plan.”
Rayne sat, astounded
by the opportunity that landed in her lap. “So, when do I leave?”