10. Warren
10
WARREN
“Yes, baby. That feels so fucking good. Do that thing with your hips again. Yeah, like that, rock them back and forth. That’s a good girl, keep going.”
“Ren, oh my god. You feel so good. I’m so full, I’m so close, I’m–” Kira pants as she rides, picking up her pace to drag her clit along the root of my cock.
“Do it, Kira. Come all over me. Squeeze my cock with your tight little cunt.”
I dig my fingers into her hips, urging her on. Pleasure builds at the base of my spine, ready to snap. Kira throws her head back, moaning and bucking as she convulses, and then I–
Beep. Beep. Beep.
I bolt upright at the sound of my alarm, squinting as a beam of sun sneaks past my blackout curtains and straight to my corneas. This is the fourth time in a week that I’ve woken up the same way–covered in a sheen of sweat, out of breath, and leaking from the tip of my rock-hard cock.
I’ve been haunted by the same dream for weeks. Every night, it’s the same thing. Kira, naked and wet on top of me, choking the life out of my dick with her pretty little cunt. And each time, it ends right at the climax. I never got to feel her squeezing around me as I drove into her in real life, and my sleeping subconscious never gets to finish.
Life is painfully unfair.
I groan and roll over onto my stomach, pressing my hips into the mattress to relieve a bit of the ache between my legs. But it’s no use. Bitter experience over the last few weeks has taught me that if I go into Spin Sync–where I’m surrounded by photos and videos of Kira, if not the woman herself–without taking care of my arousal first, my body will revert back into a teenager and I’ll spend the day trying to hide an erection from my employees.
I roll out of bed and pad across the wooden floors to my ensuite bathroom. Flipping on the water, I jump under the spray before it’s reached an optimal temperature and take myself in hand. The physical relief is immediate, even if my palm doesn’t hold a candle to Kira McKenna’s perfectly filthy little mouth. I snap my eyes shut as I begin to fuck my fist in earnest, bucking my hips and picturing the way she looked up at me with her stunning grey eyes. I pay extra attention to the piercing closest to the tip of my cock, trying to recreate the way she flicked her tongue against the barbell with my finger.
When I remember the way she smiled up at me as I coated her lips with my cum, my orgasm hits hard and fast, nearly taking me to my knees.
“Fucking Christ,” I moan, slapping a hand against the tiled shower wall.
I catch my breath and clean up quickly before wrapping myself in a towel and going to my closet to get dressed for the day. The biting edge of arousal is gone for now, but I’ll still go into Spin Sync with Kira on my mind.
Keeping my distance from her has been difficult. Nearly every question I have for anyone is answered with “Ask Kira, she knows” or, “Kira is in charge of that. She can help you.”
It’s become increasingly clear to me that while Jonathan’s name may have been on the paperwork, Kira has been running the show at Spin Sync for a long time. The more I learn about the inner workings of the company, the more I understand why she’s pissed off.
After the verbal lashing she gave me in the street, I tried to reach out to Jonathan for more information about their working relationship. Not because I give a shit about his side of the story–if Kira says that he screwed her over, then I believe her–but because I get the sense that he is a slippery fuck, and if led to believe that he and I are part of some sort of boy’s club, he might be susceptible to telling on himself. Maybe he’d let some information slip that I could use to curry favor with Kira and convince her I’m not the disgusting leach who sleeps with women whom he’s actively trying to screw out of a deal that she thinks I am.
Of course, even that is grasping at straws. I’ve got no proof that Jonathan did or took anything more from Kira than what she already told me, besides a feeling and a dizzying desire to protect her.
Unsurprisingly, I’ve been unable to reach Jonathan Graham. Seems as though he fucked off to some remote island before the ink was dry. So instead, I’ve just been staying out of Kira’s way, because she can’t be pissed off at me if she never has to see me, right?
Wrong, of course. I know she’s still pissed. I’ve heard the gossip spreading throughout the building like wildfire. That I’ve got erectile dysfunction, that the grey streaks in my hair are highlights I pay to have done to make myself more distinguished, that I was the lead designer of the Cyber Truck and that’s why it looks like a cardboard box that was smashed by an anvil. I know who’s responsible for the rumor mill.
I also know that every person who works at the lobby cafe refuses to serve me a cup of tea or any of the blueberry-lemon muffins, always telling me they’re sold out even when I can see them sitting in the case. I can’t prove it, but I know Kira is behind the breakfast deception as well.
If I keep to myself and allow her to do what makes her feel better, maybe she’ll eventually get tired and give up the act.
I carry that same energy into the day. I’ve set up an office upstairs, and when I kick the door open–lightly, and only because my hands are full of coffee and a whole wheat muffin from downstairs–James Adler is waiting for me on the other side.
Before Spin Sync, I’d only ever seen James in a suit. Well-tailored polyester and rayon when he was younger, and then once he’d made his billions, Italian silk. It still catches me off guard to find him in compression leggings under gym shorts and a backwards cap, sipping green juice from a glass bottle.
“Adler. To what do I owe the pleasure?” I ask as I move across the room and take my seat.
“I just thought I’d stop by and ask how things are going. See if you needed any advice, former CEO to current CEO,” he says, winking. I roll my eyes.
“You may have been CEO of a billion-dollar company, but don’t forget who gave you the financial leg up you needed. I’m doing just fine.”
James throws his hands up in mock surrender
“Fine then. I’ll tell you the real reason I’m here.”
“Please, enlighten me.”
“Kira.”
He says her name with a reverence that I envy. The kind of deep respect a person can only have for someone they know and love well. Someone they would do anything for .
“Miss McKenna?” I ask, choosing to call her by her last name as if there is another Kira he could be asking me about. James’s typically warm and playful expression is gone, replaced by a mask of vexation.
“We’ve known each other for a long time, Warren. That’s the only reason I’m here, giving you the benefit of the doubt.”
“James, I don’t–”
“You slept with her.” Not a question, a statement of fact. I don’t love the idea that Kira told people about the wedding. We never agreed to keep it a secret and I’m not ashamed of having been with her. I just sort of liked the idea that the memory belonged to her and I alone. I bite the inside of my cheek.
“Technically, we didn’t sleep together,” I grumble.
“Don’t bullshit me with semantics, Warren. Kira McKenna is an obnoxious pain in my ass, but she’s family. She means a great deal to me and an even greater deal to my wife. She’s hurt and feels betrayed, and that pisses me off. So, I’m here, waiting for you to tell me that you really didn’t know what you were doing. That you didn’t sleep with her and then turn around and buy the company she wanted out from under her. Tell me it’s just a fucked up coincidence.”
James looks at me with an icy resentment that I feel in my core. Part of me is a little scared. I know that if he wanted to, James could do some serious physical damage to me with all those muscles of his. The other part of me is grateful that Kira has people like James in her corner to protect her.
Even though I’m sure, if given the opportunity, she could do more harm to me herself.
Without a word, I unlock my iPad and pull up an email thread from a few months back. I scroll to the top and find the first one, dated the Tuesday after his wedding.
“I can’t show you the whole thread. Nondisclosures and all that. But I swear to you, James, this is the first message I received from Jonathan. Go on, read it. You can see that he was only testing the waters.”
He takes the tablet from my hands, looking it over. We sit in silence for a moment, and when he looks back up at me, his expression has softened just a touch.
“This doesn’t prove much.”
“I know that.”
“How do I know you weren’t plotting some elaborate scheme and were just waiting to get her into bed before enacting your master plan?” James raises an eyebrow at me. I’d find it comical if I didn’t know how deathly serious he was.
“James, think about it. What master plan could I have been plotting? What would I have gained from this situation? If I was some asshole trying to trick her into sleeping with me, what good would buying this place after we’d already done it do for me? I wasn’t desperate for a job or a big break. If Jonathan hadn’t accepted my offer, I would have just walked away and kept on living my life. I didn’t need to swindle and lie my way into anything. I didn’t even know she worked here until the ink was dry.
“This is all just an unfortunate happening of happenstance that has fucked me over, too. The whole place won’t stop talking about my penis’s supposed shortcomings, I can’t even get one of the good fucking muffins at the cafe, and Kira won’t even look at me unless it’s to shoot daggers out of her eyes and through my soul.”
He looks at me, his eyes darting back and forth between mine, as though he’s searching for a lie he won’t find. I watch as his searching expression morphs into something that resembles a smile.
“You like Kira, don’t you? You like her like her.”
“ Like her, like her? What are you, thirteen?”
“That’s not an answer, Warren.” James waggles his eyebrows.
“I barely know her,”
“Not an answer, either. Warren and Kira, sitting in a tree,” he sing-songs.
“Can you go back to threatening my life, please?” I ask, running a hand across the back of my neck.
“K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”
“That's it, you’re fired.” I toss a balled up wad of paper at his head, but he catches it before it can bean him between the eyes. We both laugh, but when it fades out, I feel a familiar knot forming in the pit of my stomach. I pop my elbows onto the desk and drop my face into my hands.
“Would you consider selling to her? If she had the funds?” James asks.
I shrug a shoulder, a noncommittal answer. I’ve quickly fallen in love with this place, silly rumors and forbidden muffins be damned. I like feeling like I have a purpose beyond serving as a bank roll. I like the close-knit community. I like that for the first time in a long, long time, I feel a bit less lonely for a few hours every day.
I don’t love that my being happy has made Kira miserable. I hate that she feels like I took something from her.
I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t considered giving it all up since our argument in the street. I’d gone home that night and drafted an email offering to hand it all over to her. I’d almost sent it to, but something held me back. The niggling feeling that I could make the whole situation worse. That Kira might just be stubborn enough to not just to refute any offers, but to leave Spin Sync completely just to spite me.
I can’t have that happen. She’s the beating heart of the organization, that much is plain to see.
“She really hates me, doesn’t she?” I mumble, reluctantly asking the question that haunts me out loud.
James sighs, tapping a knuckle on the desktop.
“Her feelings are hurt. Kira is tough. She’s got a hard exterior, but she’s soft on the inside. This whole situation has wounded her pride, but I don’t think she hates you. I think she has a lot of anger, and you’re an easy target.”
I nod, understanding. I can play the role of the punching bag if that’s what she needs. Because the truth is…
“I do. Like her, that is. It started as just an attraction, but I haven’t been able to get her out of my head. I don’t know what it is. She’s just…” I trail off, unable to come up with the right word.
A knock from the hall grabs my attention. I look up to find Kira leaning against the door frame, pink lips pressed into a tight line and arms crossed against her chest, pushing up her bright orange sports bra with thin straps that crisscross over her breasts. Her hair is pulled into two little buns on top of her head and her skin is shining, covered in the glitter she always dusts over her skin before going on camera. The tiny black shorts she’s wearing are nearly indecent, clinging to her like a second skin and showing off her perfectly sculpted quads. My eyes are drawn to the sweet pink gem hanging from her belly button, a perfect, shining adornment to the ripples of her abs.
My throat goes dry, feeling like I’ve swallowed a mouthful of cotton.
She’s exquisite.
A symphony of sinew and rippled muscles that sing in harmony with the soft features of her face and the round curves of her feminine figure .
I don’t know if she heard what I said, if she knew I was talking about her, but I don’t care. She hasn’t sought me out before, and I am not the kind of man who will look a gift horse in the mouth.
“Kira, good to come in. Please, see you.”
James snorts as I feel my cheeks turn a bright shade of crimson. Kira only tilts her head, the smallest of smiles tipping up the corner of her lips.
“I’ll see you later, Romeo,” James winks as he stands. I shoot him a glare, but he simply twiddles his fingers at me. He leans down to whisper something in Kira’s ear as he passes through the doorway, kissing her cheek and then whistling as he retreats down the hall.
Kira and I look at each other, neither of us speaking for a long moment. It’s an odd kind of standoff. I worry that if I’m the first to speak, I’ll fuck up again. Instead of prompting her to have a seat, I might accidentally beg her to sit on my face.
“We need to talk, Warren.”