Chapter Fourteen

Norma couldn’t wait to get to the Chicago Daily. Her stomach fluttered in anticipation to see Henry after their weekend of passion. She replayed their lovemaking in her mind over and over and over. No one could’ve been more perfect than Henry—or gentler.

How could she ever be the same after his touch? After he made his mark on her skin? Her heart? Her soul? She never imagined the act of making love could be so powerful. With Henry, it was the best moment of her life.

She rode up the elevator, willing it to go faster. Luckily, no one else rode with her to bear witness to her ants-in-the-pants dance. She wiggled about as if nature was calling—well, nature was calling but with a scandalous howl. Then finally as if she was at the pearly gates, the elevator doors slid open. She leapt out and raced into the press room.

The morning buzzed as usual with typewriter bells sounding and reporters hustling around the metal desks. She glanced to the far end of the room. Henry’s office door was closed, but light spilled out from underneath. The butterflies broke out into their synchronized dance again in her stomach. Only Henry could jump start her senses that way.

Ingrid’s sweet perfume wafted through the air as she walked through the metal desks. Her normally pinkish hue was colored by a green glaze, and the red tip of her nose grew raw with each rub of a handkerchief. She didn’t look well one bit.

Norma frowned. “Are you okay?”

“I’m a bit under the weather.” Ingrid sniffled, taking her place at her metal desk and shuffled around loose papers.

Norma walked over to her own desk. “Yes, I was concerned when George said you were indisposed due to a headache on Friday.”

“It just won’t let up. I don’t know what’s wrong.” Her voice strained with every word.

“Perhaps you should go home? I can assume your duties until you get back.”

Ingrid’s eyebrow lifted. “You want to handle Mr. Chapel’s secretarial work?”

Yes! She had to contain herself. “I would do it for you.”

“You’re awfully eager…” Ingrid pursed her lips. She glanced back to Henry’s office and then back at Norma. “I suppose I should get rest…”

“Yes. Go.” Norma urged her.

It didn’t take much more to convince Ingrid she should be home. She feebly stood and gathered her coat, which was folded over the back of her chair. “Thank you, Norma. You really are a doll.” She stuffed the chair underneath the desk, taking long shaky steps to the grand hall, out of Norma’s sight. “Go easy on Mr. Chapel.”

Once Ingrid was out of the office, Norma smoothed her hands down the length of her white chiffon blouse and to the top of her new black skirt—courtesy of Ingrid. She couldn’t look disheveled when she walked into Henry’s office. She had to look perfect. She fluffed her curly bob and stood on her T-strap clad feet as she ascended to his office on shaky legs. Why was she so nervous after their passionate weekend? If anything, she should be comfortable in his presence; after all, he had been in her bed, nude. And she’d given him the best of her. Even so, she still didn’t know the status of their relationship.

On Sunday, after almost two days of sheet wrestling, he had lethargically stood at her doorjamb, kissed her as if he’d never see her again. Should that have been indicative of his intentions? She felt much like she felt when he walked out of her brownstone and drove off in his car. Desperate. She was desperate for him to stay and always be with her. But now, she wasn’t sure if he was still that Henry or Mr. Chapel, the boss.

She approached the closed door, hesitating before she knocked on the cold metal. When she didn’t hear a response, she knocked again, hard that time. “Hen—err, Mr. Chapel?”

Rustling came through from the other side. She could hear the faint voice swear. He wasn’t happy about being interrupted. She was clearly breaking his policy, but he had taken her virginity. It seemed like an uneven exchange in her favor.

“Who is it?” he demanded behind the closed door.

“It’s Norma…” She placed an ear to the door.

Pause. More rustling sounded through the thick door. Then his defrosted voice called, “Norma…”

Her heart leaped in her throat. Why did he sound odd? What was he doing in there?

“May I come in? Err…I have a question about my weather report.” She glanced back.

Anton who sat nearby perked up with interest.

“Enter,” he called.

Norma sucked in a deep breath and blew it out before she turned the cold knob. Entering his office was like entering a different world where everything was backwards. The last time she’d entered his office, he didn’t know her kiss. Now, she entered as a woman he knew fully.

The light spilled out and enveloped her body as Henry came in full view. He stood near his desk with his jacket off and his white shirt unbuttoned at the neck and his sleeves rolled to his elbows. His mid-afternoon strip, as the staff called it, wasn’t due for a few more hours. A cigar was strategically placed behind his left ear as usual. His eyes blazed as they had the morning after their first night of passion. They were intoxicating. Her knees buckled when she got an eyeful of him. She had to grasp the doorframe or else she would’ve fallen over.

Their gazes locked. Amber to green. Her heart stopped. She wanted to run into his arms and kiss him until the world just fell away. She wanted to tear her clothes off and let him devour her as he had more times than she could count on two hands. She wanted him to push her down on the floor and dominate her at the most primal level. She couldn’t imagine anything else. Even more, she didn’t want to. He owned her.

She entered the office and shut the door. Henry didn’t give anything away. He passively remained standing by his desk, not making one move toward her. She stood quietly, waiting for a signal from him. Waiting for some sign he was Henry her lover and not Mr. Chapel her tyrant boss. She had to know that giving herself to him was a gift he would treasure—she was desperate to know that.

Her trembling fingers weaved together and connected her hands as her heavy eyelids lifted to him.

His jaw clenched, and once again the tortured inflection danced in his eyes. Oh no. Did he have second thoughts? His fingers found the cigar behind his ear and placed it on the crowded desk.

“Mr. Chapel…” Her voice was painfully small. It took a lot to get those four syllables out of her mouth.

Saying nothing, he simply took long strides toward her, and when he was close enough, he scooped her in his arms. His mouth came down on hers, and she melted in his embrace.

She kissed him back violently and desperately, as if her life depended on it. His lips were just as frantic. She never would have thought a man like Henry Chapel could lose himself in a kiss, but she’d caught him. He felt the same as she did. The way he kissed her said he did. Her heart sank further, and she completely let her guard down.

He lifted her up off the floor and carried her to his desk. When he broke their kiss, she hopped backwards and pressed her bottom on the desk. He looked at her with wild dark eyes all the while his panting matched her own. He had the amazing ability to make her breathless. His hands found the hem of her shirt, and he lifted the delicate material until the tops of her stockings were exposed. He ran his index finger underneath the top of the stocking to caress her covered skin.

She tingled everywhere his fingers touched. She moaned. His touch was so exquisite. Being with Henry was always exquisite.

He lowered his head and brought his lips to the naked skin above her thigh-high stockings. His mouth made her quiver deep within.

She couldn’t stand it.

Then, he unclipped her garter straps, and the stocking became limp, easing down on its own accord. He did the same with the other stocking. The taut material snapped and became nothing but loose material around her thighs. He slid the stockings down to her knees, kissing and nibbling her skin the whole time. Her moans grew louder as he continued his feat. Containing her pleasure was a challenge she took on with all her might.

“Shhh,” he said with a voice smooth as honey. It made her want him more, if that was possible.

Without effort, he pushed up the delicate material of her skirt in one fluid motion. No one could ever accuse Henry of being a man who didn’t go for what he wanted, and it was no secret what he wanted.

She squirmed under his hands, feeling the flutter of uncertainty fill her stomach from being exposed so brusquely in the brightly lit room. She couldn’t have her parts on display like that for him to prod and dissect as he wished. She moaned low in her throat, clenching her knees together.

“Open.” His hands coaxed and caressed her thighs until she forgot about the bright light and opened to his touch again.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered and caressed farther up her thighs until his firm finger circled over her hard clit.

Moaning, he pushed her unmentionables to the side, touching her deep within. Slick with desire, she was ready to have him inside her. No world existed outside of Henry’s office. No male reporters sat on the other side of the door. There was nothing but the two of them in the trenches of passion. There was nothing but Henry and his velvet touch against her parted legs. She didn’t have to say a word because he knew how to touch her. What she needed.

“We seem to be in a compromising position, Mr. Chapel.” Norma smiled through hooded eyes.

Henry smirked, taking a hold of her hips, pulling her against him. Her naked legs wrapped around his waist in response. “Yes, Miss Hill, I would say this is a compromising position.”

She bit her lip, peering up at him.

“Oh Norma,” he moaned, his eyes briefly closed. He whispered, “You’re going to be the end of me.” With those words he pulled her face to his and kissed her again. He was nothing but eager tongue and lips and hands. He tore her muslin and lace undergarments clear off her and tossed the shreds of material to the floor. Norma moaned again under his rough hands.

“Henry,” she whimpered against his mouth.

“Shhh,” he demanded in the midst of their kiss and unbuttoned his trousers. A burst of commotion sounded outside of the office door. Norma tore her lips away from his and glanced at the door feeling a deep pang of anxiety in her stomach. What if they got caught? The thought was exhilarating.

“Henry,” Norma squealed. She didn’t want anyone to open the unlocked door. That could be detrimental.

“Do you want me to stop?” He pulled back for a moment.

She shook her head emphatically. “No!”

The smile reappeared on his face. Lord, why was he so beautiful?

Her private parts convulsed.

“What do you want?” His hands caressed the front of her blouse. Her nipples hardened immediately.

Her head rolled back in the throes of passion. “I’ll do whatever you want, Henry. Anything.”

Henry’s trousers slid to the floor, and his erection sprung to life like it had multiple times over the weekend. At first, she shuddered to think she’d been able to accommodate him. He was just so large. And though she tried to look away from staring right at his glistening shaft, it was impossible. She ogled with wonderment as he stood nude with no reservations. Not that he had anything to be ashamed of. Aside from childhood experiences of her neighbor Bobby exposing himself when they were kids, she could never have prepared herself for the sight of a real man. She wondered if all men had such enchanting parts. If not, then she thanked the good Lord she got lucky with her first.

“I want you to touch me,” he commanded.

She reached out to touch his soft yet firm skin, caressing him all the while watching his face to be sure she didn’t tug too hard or pull wrong. The only indication to know she was on the right track was the moan deep in his throat and his half-closed eyes. She kept up the pace until his eyes opened, and he looked like a tiger about to devour a gazelle.

She released him. “Henry?”

“Shhh.” He grabbed her hips and pulled them to him. “I want inside you. Now.”

Her naked folds brushed against his hard skin, and she wiggled so the tip of him touched her sex. She wanted him inside her, too, and she didn’t have to wait much longer.

He rubbed himself against her, tempering her body for their fusion. The heat waved through her with every stroke. A tight smile broke across his face when she pushed her pelvis against him, urging him on. Without further avail, he pressed himself inside of her. She yelped at the pull of her tender skin.

“Henry…” she moaned, holding on to him for dear life.

“You don’t want anyone to hear you, do you?” He continued to push himself inside of her, his voice strained.

“N-no,” she cried, her pelvis tilting up so he could plant himself deep within her.

As a skilled lover, he gently released himself from her and delved inside her again. She cried out more; she couldn’t help it. The moans and cries were a consequence of his lovemaking.

“Shhh, baby.” He continuing to pump in and out of her. “Keep it down.”

Norma couldn’t take anymore. That familiar pressure was building up deep within, and she would climax right then, but she feared what sounds would fly out of her mouth if they continued. Another moan flew out, and there was nothing else to do but slap both hands over her mouth to contain the screams.

Henry seemed satisfied with her solution and continued his task with a smile on his face until he was panting. The buildup was coming to a peak and restraining herself became impossible as the lusty explosion passed through her body like hot coals. She became limp, but not before Henry had his own climax. His jaw clenched and forehead creased with the intensity of their lovemaking.

She was in shambles, and his arms kept her from falling apart. Once the aftershocks subsided, he kissed her hair and her forehead and her checks. The gentle kisses contrasted his ferocious love making.

“I don’t think I can get enough, doll face.” He continued to kiss her.

“I want to give you as much as you need.” She panted, matching him kiss for kiss.

“Well, Miss Hill, it seems I’m a minute late for my staff meeting.” His voice was husky as he struggled to regain normal breathing.

“We can’t have that.” Norma sat back on both hands, watching him with playful eyes.

He sighed. “I knew you’d be the end of me.” Or the beginning?

“Well, Ingrid is sick, so I’m your secretary for the day.” She beamed, still nude from the waist down.

“I might have to fire you.” He chuckled. “Or give you a promotion.”

Norma giggled.

Henry drew silent. His eyes were tormented again. “Norma…I…”

“Henry, please…” Her heart stilled.

Quickly, she clipped her stockings to the garter belt and smoothed down her skirt sans undergarments—they were torn and useless. Why did he look at her like that? She felt small—small as the size of a single pearl.

“I don’t want you to do that with anyone else.” His gaze was low to the floor as he reassembled his trousers. “Do you understand?” Then he stared straight in her eyes. Nearly to her soul. “No one.”

“No, Henry, I wouldn’t…I don’t want to do this with anyone else.”

“Good.” He smoothed his hair, seemed pleased with himself. “You are now three minutes late to the staff meeting, Miss Hill. I may have to put you on probation.”

Norma stood, snatching up the lacy torn undergarments from the floor.

“I’ll take those.” He grabbed the wadded material from her loose grip. He fondled the fabric and then placed it in his pocket.

Norma’s face broke into a large smile. Darn! She wanted him again.

****

How did Henry manage to conduct the staff meeting after the brisk love session with his Norma? All he could do was think about her moans as he made love to her on the surface of his desk. His gaze shifted to the glossy top. The loose papers had scattered around their love making and stayed in the haphazard circular pattern as proof of the act.

With the door closed behind him, he strode over to the window and watched the snow fall. He was still hot from the exertion, and the wisps of cold from the glass gave him some relief. His reflection in the glass gave him much introspection. He kept something from everyone, except his mother. He’d wished he’d kept the secret completely to himself.

In his pocket, he hid a telegram. Reaching in, he removed it from its hiding place and unfolded the paper. His eyes skimmed over the letters.

To: Henry Chapel, Manager,

The Chicago Daily News

From: Edwin Gay, New York Post

Mr. Chapel,

The consortium of the New York Post has unanimously agreed to consider you for the position of Executive Operator. As our first choice candidate, we hope you will accept our invitation to join myself and Mr. Cyrus Curtis at the Blackstone Hotel on Thursday evening to discuss how your capabilities will benefit the New York Post. We await your response.

With all sincerity,

E. Gay

Only a fool would pass up the offer. He sighed; the beat of his chest shook the paper in his hands. Refolding the telegram, he replaced the letter in his pocket and turned away from the window and walked the short distance to his desk and sat in the tall-back chair.

It was early, but the cigar sitting at his desk begged to be lit. Placing it in his mouth, he lit the end. A plume of white smoke streamed into the air from his mouth. He watched it dissipate to nothing, and then he puffed again. Norma’s face resurfaced in his mind again—it always did—and he wondered how he could leave the Daily and move to New York when he had so much in Chicago. A month ago, two months ago, he probably would have accepted the offer without a second thought. Then again one or two months ago, he had nothing to truly keep him in Chicago. Press professionals were expected to go where needed—that was part of the profession. He’d always go where he could make the most impact. Apparently he was too good at making an impact; after all, he’d increased the Daily’s sales by eight-three percent in less than three weeks. But now there was another element to his life he didn’t expect. Norma.

With his other hand, he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the torn lace-trimmed under things. The reflection in the glossy desk top only caught his smile, but there was much more inside of him. He ached for her when she wasn’t near. He thought of her when he woke in the morning, and when he found her in his arms, he wondered how he was such a lucky bastard. But when he made love to her…the only thing he could think of was divinity. Only God could send him such a gift.

He held the pair of panties to his face, pressing it against his nose then his lips. The scalloped edges of the muslin panties tickled his nose. My Norma. His eyes closed briefly with all the feelings that rushed through his body from having a piece of her so close to him. He sighed at his new predicament. Not even Mae made him feel that way, and he had loved her. But that was a decade ago, and he was quite a different person. He shoved the undergarment back in his pocket. What did it all mean?

Puffing again on the cigar, he turned toward the window. The question still lingered over his head. Would he accept the job at the New York Post? He still didn’t know—at least he wasn’t ready to make any proclamations. He’d at least hear what the poor sap had to say about the Post and its situation. No harm in that.

In seconds, he shifted gears and wrestled with the skewed papers splayed against the desk, erasing the evidence of his and Norma’s lovemaking. He had another issue to attend to. Continue to increase sales at the Chicago Daily.