OF COURSE ESTHER would have Bridges and Bitters closed for deep cleaning this afternoon when I need her most. Thankfully I was able to convince some members of Foof to come to my house for an emergency meeting. To listen to me implode.
I beg Esther to bring drinks, order way too much food for delivery, and drape myself across my couch like a regency-era duchess in need of smelling salts. Nicole, Orla, and Logan arrive first, telling me they’re skipping some sort of torturous family running event.
Chloe comes bearing heaps of glossy photographs of potential cover models for us to help her “research” and Piper arrives with Esther, each of them carrying giant glass jugs of alcohol.
Piper slams hers onto my hardwood floor and points a sweaty finger at me. “Only for your crisis would I skip a workout today. It’s gorgeous outside!”
Esther nods. “Are you sure you don’t want to walk by a river or something?”
I shake my head and point at the pile of newspaper clippings on my coffee table. “I can’t risk someone taking my picture and trying to spin me as someone shirking responsibilities to go galavanting.”
Logan groans. “You told Audrey to stop sending you clippings and here you are obsessing over them alone? Sam!” She squeezes my leg. “You need to ignore these assholes.”
Nicole wedges herself onto the couch beside me, resting a hand over her stomach. “Someone catch me up. I’ve had my head in a toilet for three months while this lichen takes root.”
Orla snickers at her but says, “The media has it out for Sam, and it’s giving her board the heebie jeebies going into their initial public offering.” She looks at Logan. “Did I call it the right thing?” Logan nods.
Nicole frowns. She works as a business strategist and has experience taking a company public in the past. I tried to hire her a year ago but she’s committed to her current job. “Your marketing team should really have a plan for this, Sam. What are they submitting to various media outlets?”
My head flops back against the couch as I mutter about only recently acquiring a real marketing staff. Chloe hands me a glass and I take a swig of the sweet, boozy contents. “I don’t even like this aspect of…everything.” I gesture toward my front door. “Honest to god, all I want to do is lock myself in a cave with 3 monitors and code something fantastic.”.
Logan pats my leg. “You already did that, babe. And people love it! And it’s about to get easier for people to access it. You’ll see.”
“Hm.” I take another swig. “Esther, you delightful witch. This is amazing.”
She smiles. “I’m trying this out for pumpkin spice season.”
I take another swig and frown. “I don’t taste anything pumpkiny, though…”
Esther cackles. “Because I fucking hate pumpkin spice. Everyone knows the apple is the star of the show in autumn.” Everyone laughs. “That’s an Autumn Pimm’s Cup with brandy, local apple cider, sliced apples from the same orchard, oranges, and a cinnamon stick.”
I’m about to comment when I hear a tap on my screen door. I turn my head to see none other than Adriel Trachtenberg biting his lip on my stoop. I wonder how much he heard, feeling sheepish about him knowing I haven’t been loving my role as CEO. That was information for Foof ears only.
I’m about to get up and let him in when Chloe beats me to the punch, springing up from the couch and squealing. “You were at my release party,” she says to him. She clutches his hand. “Thank you so much for your support. Truly.”
He arches a brow at her. “My pleasure,” he grunts, with no joy whatsoever. It makes me laugh. He clears his throat. “I’m sorry for barging in. I didn’t mean to crash your party.”
Nicole and Orla stand up and start clearing away glasses. Nicole looks AJ up and down and says, “We were just leaving anyway.”
“What? You absolutely were not leaving.” I grab the neck of the bottle before Piper hauls it away. Chloe and Esther grab one of the paper bags of food. “We’re going for that walk,” Piper says. “As the resident fitness expert, I need to look out for my friends’ cardiovascular health.”
“But I don’t want to walk.” I pout and take another swig of my Pimm’s Cup.
Esther grins. “We know you don’t, babe.” She pats AJ on the shoulder. “We’ll leave you here with this guy.”
Before he can protest and before I can convince them otherwise, Foof has faded out of the house without a trace. Except for the glass bottle of hooch I’m cradling in my lap like a baby. Eventually, AJ deposits a plastic grocery bag on my coffee table, sinks into the couch beside me and grips my thigh, sending heat soaring to my crotch.
“I was worried you’d still be in your office,” he says, giving me a small smile.
I shake my head. “I came home eventually.” He gestures for the alcohol and I hand him the jug.
He takes a sip and his eyebrows shoot up. “This is delicious.”
“Isn’t it? Esther is so good at what she does.”
We pass the jug back and forth a few times before he says, “My family is angry with me because I didn’t bring you to dinner today.”
I sigh. “I probably would have been a distraction today anyway. So much going on.” I gesture around vaguely and he nods. “Isn’t it early for dinner, though? What time is it?”
He stretches out on the couch and drapes an arm around my shoulders. I surprise myself by instinctively curling in closer to him, like a magnet snapping into place on the fridge. “Is there a better vocabulary word for late lunch? We ate at my parents’ house after services.”
“Lupper? Dunch?”
“Definitely not dunch.” He starts stroking my hair and it’s almost enough to make me forget all the stress of this week. All the stress of last night. “How long until this all wraps up for you?” He tilts his head so I can feel his breath on my skin as he talks.
“Supposed to be this week.”
“Want to know what I think?”
I press a hand against his chest and push back a little so I can see his whole face. “Actually, no. I don’t want to talk about work at all, if that’s okay.”
He gives a small smile. “That’s definitely okay.” And then he leans in to kiss me. I realize this is what I’ve been hoping for, or needing at any rate. I moan in relief as he deepens the kiss, one of his hands cradling my cheek.
“I want to have dirty, rough, hairy sex,” I tell him, nipping at his finger, which he withdraws as his eyes widen. Those eyes darken as he nods his head. I yelp when he wraps my ponytail around his fist and tugs, tilting my head back. “Yes,” I groan as he licks my throat.
“Get upstairs,” he growls and I feel a rush of excitement. I don’t have to decide anything, because he’s telling me what to do right now, and he’s taking off his shirt.
“Fuck, yes,” I whoop, scampering up the stairs as he chases after me, shedding his clothes along the way. When we get to my room he shoves me against the wall, kissing me as his hands are rough along my boobs. “I wish you had a ruler,” I pant. “I want you to rap my knuckles with it.”
He pauses. “You understand corporal punishment is illegal now, right?”
I roll my eyes. “You’re fucking up my fantasy, Adriel.”
He arches a brow and says, “Hmmm.” He slides his belt out from the loops on his pants and smacks his left palm with the leather. My eyes fly wide. He grins. “Too much. Got it.” He tosses the belt over his shoulder and spins me around so I’m facing the wall. In a few yanks and tugs, he’s got my ass exposed as my palms press into the pale blue paint.
I gasp when he slaps my ass, the crack echoing through my townhouse. His fingertips massage my skin as he cups my cheek where his palm stung a moment before. “How’s this for a fantasy?” AJ’s voice is low in my ear and I swallow in anticipation, waiting to see what he’ll do next. Loving that I don’t know.
He draws his hand back and slaps the other cheek and I whimper in pleasure, especially when his fingers cup between my legs, drawing my moisture along my body as he massages. His teeth sink into the skin beneath my ear and I feel his fingers everywhere at once—he rubs them along my nipples, my stomach, my ass, but never my clit. “Please, AJ,” I beg. I feel a desperate throb between my legs as my clit longs for his attention.
From over my shoulder, I hear AJ crinkling a condom wrapper and then I feel a steadying hand on my hip before a swell of pressure between my legs as he sinks inside me. I release a guttural moan, melting into the wall, my nipples loving the friction against the matte finish as AJ settles his cock inside me.
“Holy fuck, you feel perfect,” he grunts, and then he starts to thrust. Slowly at first, he slides in and out while he traces all his little teeth marks with his fingertips. At least I imagine he can see them, illuminated like stars along my skin. Or burn marks where he has seared into my central nervous system.
My palms slide against the wall, slick with sweat as my body wriggles, seeking friction. “You need to come, don’t you?” He tugs my hair again and turns my head so I can see his eyes. I nod as much as I can with my hair around his wrist and he grins, a wicked flash among his dark hair. AJ slides his hand to my crotch and barely touches me before I come, pulsing and squeezing around the massive invasion of his thick cock.
“Fuck,” we say together. “Yes.” I moan and come and start to slide down the wall. Once I’m on my knees he backs up and hauls me up against his chest, pounding into me a few more times before he howls and I feel him come. Heaving, panting, exhausted, we both crumple to the floor in my room. When I look up at the wall, I see sweat marks from my boobs, and we laugh, both of us thrilled by this memento.
It’s nearly dark when I hear my phone ringing from somewhere downstairs. I lift my head from the fuzzy pillow of AJ’s chest and frown. I really don’t want to get out of bed, but I’m probably too close to the IPO to ignore calls, even on a weekend.
AJ groans as I try to slither out of bed. He reaches for me feebly, but I grab his t-shirt and slide it on as I head down my steps. I find my phone on the coffee table. I’ve missed several calls already from Shane and Audrey, and now it’s Logan trying to get through. “What,” I say. “I’m here. Sorry!”
“Eep! Sam!” Logan is in full excite mode. I take a seat to prepare myself for her news. “You’ve gone viral.”
“I was already viral. Remember? Blonde bimbo tries to do business blah blah…”
“No,” she sounds assertive. “Good viral. I’m sending you a link. Keep me on speaker when you pull it up.”
I squint and navigate to my messages as the phone bings in my hand. Logan sends a link to the video of the Franklin Middle School students thanking Vinea for the field trip. It looks like an extended version of the video—more than what I had seen. I smile as the kids ham for the camera and joke about their data analysis.
Logan says, “They included a hashtag. Learn with Vinea! And it’s trending.”
“Really?” I smile. On speaker, Logan talks about some of the commentary she’s finding online about the impact companies like Vinea can have on public education. I almost cry, I’m so touched.
But then I hear something behind me and I look over my shoulder to see AJ. And he’s not happy.
“Hey, Logan, I have to go. But thank you for sending this to me, okay?”
“Absolutely, Sam. Audrey and Shane wanted me to assure you that the marketing team and the community engagement staff is on it.”
She clicks off and I sigh, until I realize that AJ is really, steaming mad. He grips the couch as he stands behind me barefoot in his slacks. “Where did you get that video?”
“Logan just texted it to me.”
He points to my phone. “You assured me that you would not share that content. And now it’s gone viral?”
I swallow and start to shake my head. “AJ, it’s not the same video. Look, let me show you—“
“This is so unacceptable, Samantha. These are children. Not pawns in your PR adventure.”
I furrow my brow at him. “PR adventure? You know I’ve been under intense scrutiny that is often unfair and untrue.”
“Oh I know all about it. And you had an ace in your sleeve, didn’t you? A way to save face when everyone was picking apart your leadership abilities. Nevermind that you had to lie and steal footage of minors without parental permission!” AJ shoves his bare feet into his shoes and bends over to pick up his button-down. He fumbles with the buttons and looks around for his keys, snatching them and his phone off my coffee table.
“Where are you going?”
“Back to my apartment to call my boss and figure out the legal ramifications of your little stunt.”
I stand up and glare at him. “You have no right to speak to me this way and you cannot just storm out of here every time you get mad!”
He rolls his eyes at me like I’m one of his middle schoolers. “I should have never been over here to get mad to begin with. Women like you are only looking to get ahead, and I don’t know what it will take for me to learn that once and for all.”
He strides toward the door and I hurry to insert myself in his way. “Women like me? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I think back to how stiff he got when his grandmother brought up his ex at the synagogue. “I don’t like being compared to your past asshole girlfriends when I have done nothing wrong here. All I’ve been is honest with you.”
He throws his hands in the air. “You’re right. You’ve been very honest that your top priority is your company and guiding it to this next phase. Congratulations, Samantha. You did it. And you got some good dick along the way. Good night.”
When I don’t move out of the way, he growls and marches through the kitchen, out my back door, and through the side gate before I crumple to the floor in shocked silence.