Seventeen
Danica
The sheets cling to my skin, still warm from where Austin lay beside me. His scent mixes with the salt of spent passion, and I stretch languidly across the bed. My thoughts are a whirl, each one pulling me deeper into a state of disbelief.
“ Danica ,” he whispered after the second time last night, his breath hot against the nape of my neck. “ I want you again .” And before I could muster any protest, his hands were on me, mapping every curve as if charting undiscovered territory.
The memory alone sends a shiver down my spine.
Light filters through the blinds, casting lines of gold across the room. I hear the faint thud of a door closing across the hall. Austin off to his morning workout, no doubt full of energy after our night together. I smile at the thought of him sweating it out with his trainer while I’m sprawled here, utterly wrecked in the best possible way.
Fuck me senseless wasn’t just a figure of speech with him. It was a promise delivered multiple times through the night, each more fervent than the last. And this morning, God, this morning… He descended upon me with a hunger that left me gasping, clinging to the sheets as waves of pleasure crashed over me. When I came, it was with a force that shook me to the core, leaving his face glistening and his smile triumphant.
“ See you soon ,” he murmured on the way out, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead before slipping through the door.
And now, as I lie here alone, the silence is heavy. I promised to see him again. How could I not? To deny myself more of what we shared would be like refusing to breathe. And it’s more than just the sex. It’s the way he looks at me, like I’m the only thing that matters when he’s inside me.
I understand now why his past partners always sounded so ecstatic, their cries piercing the thin walls. With Austin, it’s not just pleasure. It’s an awakening.
With a sigh, I push back the covers and reluctantly prepare to leave the remnants of our night behind. There’s a new day ahead, a day filled with mundane tasks. But beneath it all, there’s already the thrumming anticipation of seeing him again.
I sit up and wince. Every movement is a sharp reminder of last night’s intensity. The dull ache between my thighs is new…and oddly satisfying. I stretch, feeling muscles protest, each one whispering tales of Austin’s touch. No man has ever left me this exquisitely sore. They’ve all been boys fumbling in the dark, but he…he was a maestro of pleasure.
I take a shower, my movements slow, deliberate. The water cascades over me, hot and soothing, and I close my eyes. My hands glide over my skin, tenderly tracing the paths he took. I should be focused on the day ahead, but my mind replays every gasp, every shiver. I shake my head, trying to dispel the memories. He’s not the type to commit. I know this. And for that matter, neither am I. If my parents taught me anything, it’s that expecting long-term fidelity is a recipe for heartache. And anyway, San Francisco is teeming with men like Austin, fleeting and vibrant as the fog that rolls over the bay.
“Get it together, Danica,” I mutter. There’s no need to even think about attachments. I turn off the tap, stepping out onto the cool tile. I catch my reflection in the mirror—my hair damp and tousled, blue eyes bright with secrets. For a moment, I let myself indulge in the thought of him, then force a smile. I’m good at that—smiling and maintaining control.
My job awaits, a day of navigating the precarious tightrope of a struggling startup. I pull on my clothes, professional yet comfortable, and I feel as good as I’m going to get.
Today’s just another day , I tell myself as I step out into the City. Yet anticipation hums, a silent promise of more to come. I look at the time on my phone and realize I should be sitting in my office right now. But why rush to be the first one when it probably doesn’t matter?
A little while later, the elevator dings its arrival on the fifth floor, and I step out into the sterile quiet of Red Rabbit’s office. I clutch my bag, each step toward my desk tightening the knot in my stomach.
“Morning, Danica,” Brandon calls from his half-open office door, his voice too casual. “Got a minute?”
“Of course.” My response is automatic, measured, betraying none of the dread churning inside me. I square my shoulders and enter his office, pasting on a smile.
“Listen,” he says without preamble, eyes darting away, “I need you to handle the layoffs today. And tell everyone their final pay will be deposited later.”
“Later?” I know immediately that’s a lie. “Brandon, you promised your employees you’d pay them. They have bills and rents and mortgages. You can’t leave them without compensation for their time.” My voice is firm. “They’re legally entitled to their checks upon termination.”
“Danica.” He sighs, as if I’m a child missing the point. “The funds are tight. Just…give me some time to sort this out.” He looks around the office. “I’m going to head out. Just tell them it will be direct deposited.”
I nod and watch him get on the elevator to leave. Asshole . There’s no way I’m going to let thirty-one people go without making sure he’s paid them for the work they’ve done.
I head over to the accounting department and Barbie Tomlinson’s desk. I shut her office door as I enter, and she looks up at me. “Please tell me you’re not letting me go. I just bought a new house.”
My heart breaks for her. “I understand. We’re closing the doors today.”
She looks around me. “Where’s Brandon?”
“He left. But I need to run checks for everyone.”
“I can do a direct deposit.”
“Is there enough for his salary and everyone else’s?”
She clicks a few buttons and shakes her head. “Not right now.”
“Then I’d prefer we run checks.”
She looks at me a moment and seems to understand what I’m telling her. Together, we print the employees’ checks, each one a farewell letter in numbers and ink.
Then I make an announcement, inviting everyone to the conference room. Once they’ve gathered, I take a deep breath. “I’m very sorry. We’re closing the doors today. I’ve enjoyed working with you all, and I wish you the best. I have your final paycheck. Please take it immediately to your bank and get it deposited. It’s very important that you do that first thing today.”
“Where’s Brandon?” a developer asks.
“He had to run an errand.” I hand her a check.
“Get these to the bank ASAP,” I instruct over and over, handing out checks like morbid party favors. Eyes meet mine, some tearful, others stoic—all grateful.
“Thank you, Danica,” murmurs Mina from accounting, her voice thick. “You didn’t have to—”
“Yes, I did.” Maybe it’s trying to manage an unfixable situation, or maybe it’s just human decency. Either way, I can’t let them leave empty-handed.
And then there’s my check, the last one in the stack. I take a deep breath and go to the bank, alongside my now-former colleagues. We’re a somber parade.
At the bank, I deposit my check with a silent prayer that it clears. Then it’s done. The cord is cut, leaving me adrift in the City’s vast ocean.
“Good luck, Danica,” one of the developers says, patting me on the back as we exit the bank.
“Thanks. You too,” I reply, forcing a smile.
Unemployment looms over me, but I shove the panic aside. For now, I have a place to live. But unless I can find another job, I won’t even have that. Why didn’t Red Rabbit last at least a year?
My phone pings against my thigh, and Austin’s name makes my heart race.
Austin: Hi, gorgeous. How is your day going after that fantastic start?
Me: I wish I’d never gotten out of bed.
Austin: That’s my line. : )
Me: I had to let everyone go today. I’m now unemployed.
Austin: That stinks. I’m sorry. But I’m not worried. You’ll find a job quickly. Dinner tonight?
Me: I should eat at home.
Austin: I’ll see you at 7.
My phone buzzes again as I head down the sidewalk. Brandon’s name flashes across the screen, and without missing a beat, I answer. “What now?”
“Danica,” he hisses, “your little stunt over-drafted the account. How am I supposed to pay myself?”
I press the phone closer to my ear. “I did what was legally required, Brandon. The staff worked for that money. They earned it.” My voice is a whip-crack of conviction, even as my heart races.
“Legally required? You’ve screwed me, Danica,” he spits.
“Consider it your severance package from decency,” I snap and end the call, dropping the phone into my purse with a satisfying thud.
But my victory is short-lived, as my unemployment looms large on my long walk back to the loft. Eventually exhaustion wins over my inner turmoil, and I surrender to sleep’s embrace on my couch.
A knock startles me awake, confusion knitting my brows as I find the clock. Evening already? Mischa’s whimpering for her dinner. I swing the door open and find Austin there, a soft smile on his lips and takeout bags in hand.
“Chinese food?” I ask, one part amused, one part touched.
“Figured you’d need some comfort food,” he says, stepping inside. Mischa circles him, her tail long enough that it brushes his hip.
“Comfort food and company,” I correct him, closing the door behind us. It’s strangely perfect.
“Exactly,” Austin agrees, his eyes warm.
We sit cross-legged on the living room floor, the coffee table between us laden with white takeout boxes emitting savory scents. I pick up my chopsticks, navigating them through sticky rice and spicy kung pao chicken while Austin watches me, somehow making the act of eating Chinese food feel intimate.
“Brandon was furious,” I say after swallowing a mouthful, residual anger simmering within me. “He ran away, and I had to shut everything down today—lay off the remaining staff—and then he had the nerve to call and bitch me out for paying them.”
Austin’s face softens as he sets his chopsticks down. “Sounds terrible,” he murmurs. “My company has had our fair share of close calls. For a while the founders had to forego their paychecks just to make sure the staff got theirs.”
I nod, grateful to hear that integrity isn’t entirely extinct in the business world. Brandon would never make such a sacrifice. I feel a swell of appreciation for the man sitting across from me. “Those founders have more morals and scruples than Brandon could ever hope to have,” I tell Austin. “At least everyone got their legally earned final check. That’s something, right?”
“Absolutely. You have to take care of those who took care of the company,” he replies, reaching for a dumpling. “You did good, Danica. Don’t let him make you feel otherwise.”
I nod, this moment of understanding a pocket of peace in the eye of the storm.
A little while later, the remnants of our dinner sit forgotten as Austin leans closer, his gaze intense yet gentle, a stark contrast to the fervor of last night. His words brush against my ear, warm and husky. “You’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever known, Danica.”
A shiver trails down my spine at the sincerity in his voice. I meet his eyes, finding an echo of last night’s hunger there. “I’m sore,” I admit with a coy smile. “But no regrets, if that’s what you’re asking.”
His brow furrows, concern etching his handsome features. “Was it too much? The spanking, the roughness?”
I laugh softly, shaking my head. “It was fine. More than fine actually,” I say with a hint of daring. “If you wanted to…go a little harder, I might enjoy that.”
His eyes light up, a silly smile playing across his lips again. “You’re not just beautiful, Danica. You’re perfect.” He stands, extending a hand to help me up from the floor. “Go get naked and wait for me on your bed. I’ll be right back.”
My heart hammers in my chest at the command in his tone. It’s thrilling, and I respond with eager obedience. As he disappears, presumably to fetch a mysterious item that will enhance our next encounter, I move to the bedroom, shedding my clothes along the way, ready for whatever comes next.
I slip into a black lace corset with a matching thong, the most provocative set I own—reserved for moments when feeling sexy is as necessary as breathing. With each brush stroke through my hair, excitement tingles along my skin, anticipation of Austin’s return building a delicious tension.
Then the door clicks open, and there he stands, all smoldering eyes and bare chest, save for the bow-tie knotted at his throat, a playful touch that contrasts with the intensity of his gaze. My eyes drift lower, taking in the bold outline of his arousal, and heat coils within me, fierce and insistent. “I’m impressed you can tie a bow tie.”
“I have many talents to show you. I hope you’re ready,” he announces with a wolfish grin, lifting a large box of one hundred condoms for emphasis. “Because we’re not going anywhere until every one of these is gone.”
I lean casually against the closet door, my heart pounding. The audacity of his plan sends a rush of desire through me, yet I also feel a jolt of unease. “Austin…” I begin, voice steady despite the storm raging inside. I want to tell him I don’t share. Even if it’s just temporary, it needs to be only us. But why ask for something that will only impact me? He’ll do whatever he wants, regardless. “You think you’ll get through that box of one hundred condoms tonight?”
He arches an eyebrow as he steps closer. “Probably not tonight. But there’s something about you that I want to unravel, and this will give us time to figure it out.”
“Once we’ve reached the end of the box, we’ll part as friends—no strings attached,” I clarify.
“Could be fun,” he agrees as he looks me up and down.
“I’m game if you are.”
He nods. “I’m definitely game.”
“Then let’s make sure it’s unforgettable,” I say.
“Count on it,” he replies. With one last smirk, he gestures toward the bed. “Go get ready for me.”