Vanilla On Top(32)

Tony noticed my framed pictures and asked about them. He seemed genuinely impressed when I told him I took all the shots myself. The architecture ones intrigued him the most and reminded him of his apartment building. Said he likes to work on it over the weekends. Seems like all the man does is work.

A blush heats my skin as I recall last night. He wasn’t on the clock then, that’s for sure.

The elevator opens and my doorman, George, hails me with a wave. “Hello, Ms. Pierce.” George lifts a food bag from his podium. “This was left for you by a polite man this morning. He left a note, too.”

Shock jars me as I reach for the bag and note. I give my thanks and walk down the street before opening the envelope.

To keep your strength up for later… oh, the things I hope to do with you…

I’ll be thinking of you all day.

~Tony

I peek into the bag and see a foil-wrapped breakfast sandwich underneath a smaller, clear, plastic container with strawberries inside. A warm flush spreads across my face as I make my way through the morning crowd. I’ve never had a man leave me breakfast in a bag with my doorman before.

The contented feeling from last night’s activities wraps around my heart and stays with me all morning. I eat the egg sandwich Tony left for me while sitting at my desk, sipping coffee. I should text him to relay I enjoyed his gift and thank him, but I need to calm down a bit first, so I don’t sound like a gushing fool.

I look over my agenda for the day. The big meeting with a possible investor has been bumped to four this afternoon. Damn, I hope it won’t mess up my dinner plans with Tony.

I fire off an email to Harvey, reminding him of the new meeting time, then cancel his lunch plans. I know he keeps a bottle of vodka in his office and has a few drinks when he doesn’t go out to lunch. But he’s at least able to work after a few, unlike after those five-martini lunches. Hopefully, he will lay light on his mid-day cocktails today.

Oy. If I can just get him to hang on for a few more months, he can retire and hopefully get some professional help. His wife died last year, and what he really needs is a full-time program to dry out. If he leaves the job now, he could lose everything he’s invested here, despite all the regulations in place to protect people recovering from addiction. Who am I kidding? He may not go for help when he retires anyway. Just my wishful thinking.

Once I finish clearing his luncheon meeting, I grab my cell from my purse.

Thank you for breakfast and the note. I hesitate over the keys. Should I mention anything about last night?

I had a great time last night, and I’m looking forward to dinner.

I hit send and purposely put the phone in a drawer. I need all my brain cells firing for today’s meeting. The recent decrease in funds from lost accounts has really crippled the firm. Harvey hasn’t listened when I’ve tried to go over figures with him, and our line of credit has been consequently put on hold. The influx of cash from an investor may be just what we need until the sales department can hire new talent and bring in more business.

A loud ping sounds from my desk drawer. Tension and excitement tighten my muscles, urging me to dive for the rectangular bit of plastic and read Tony’s response. I deliberately drag out looking, making sure I clear my inbox and double check data in a spreadsheet for Harvey’s review. I squirm on the leather chair, every part of me calling out to grab the phone.

With shaking hands, I pull open the drawer, the tips of my fingers trembling in eagerness. I slide up the screen lock to view the latest message.

Last night was incredible. You’re all I can think about.

Fire burns through me, igniting every inch of flesh with the warmth of discovery. The insecure girl in me wants to squeal with delight at his words. The new inner-diva wants to tweak his interest a little more, see if I can get him stirred up at work.

A wicked grin spreads across my face as I type back to my new lover, Are you thinking about anything in particular?

I stare at the tiny screen, hoping he takes the bait and writes back something sexy.

I loved peeling off your bra after dinner…

Moisture gathers down low when I recall him licking and sucking my nipples last night. Damn, that man has a fine tongue. He didn’t seem to mind my smaller than average cup size. Kept palming and squeezing my flesh every chance he could.

Wanting him to keep texting, but unsure how much I should say, I type, I enjoyed that part, too…Very much.

LOL. The moaning and requests to keep going were a dead giveaway.

I blush, appalled in the light of day over my wanton behavior. But it felt so damn good, making love on my couch and then again in the bedroom. I wouldn’t trade last night for anything in the world.