Twenty Evelyn
The rest of the day, Vanessa acted like nothing out of the ordinary had occurred last night. Maybe to her it meant nothing, but it all kept replaying in my mind. It was starting to feel like I knew the real her.
The first meeting of the day was an absolute waste of time.
None of my specialized skills were needed, as Vanessa was more informed about modern technology than both of these people combined, who apparently each had a major in either its advancements or data analytics.
This was a perfect example of both nepotism and how most meetings are just a waste of time.
Completely unneeded and bored half to death, my mind wandered back to last night for the hundredth time today.
It felt like remembering a wet dream and a nightmare at the same time.
The way she still put up with me was unexplainable.
She probably had way better people to invest her energy in and care about, yet here I was—personally selected to be here, and in her bed last night.
A feminine hand lay itself on my thigh, only adding to my indecent thoughts.
A hand on my knee always felt more stern and professional, something along the lines of ‘pay attention.’ But her hand on my thigh felt different.
The contact in such a sensitive place sent a rush of desire straight to my core.
Instinctively, my thighs pressed together at her touch.
She must have felt my muscles flex beneath her fingertips as they clenched. But she didn't react.
Instead, she just left her hand there, continuing the conversation she was having with passive aggressive patience. Anyone who knew her would know she was being nothing but condescending but these people seemed too stupid to pick up on it.
I tried to focus on their conversation and not the placement of Vanessa's hand but she began to drum her fingers—seemingly subconsciously—against my skirt clad skin.
Was she so bored she seriously decided to use me as a fidget toy?
The idea was incredibly hot, I wanted her to use my body as she pleased.
Her rhythmic patterns on me continued, making me feel like a canvas as she tapped out the syllables of the words she was speaking. She spoke slowly, with an impressive calm as she dumbed down her vocabulary as if speaking to a child.
"No-, you- see-, that- a-nal-y-sis is- in-cor-ect- and- the- da-ta- in-acc-u-rate.
" She was putting them in their place in the most respectful manner one could. Though she’d confided in me that data analytics were not her specialty, no one would be able to tell with her unwavering confidence and knowledge.
"No- the- left- row- on- the- sec-ond, spread-sheet-. The- right- has- the- av-er-ag-es, and- the- first- spread- sheet- cov-ers an-al-y-sis, not- the stan-dard- de-vi-at-ion, or an-y o-ther- forms- of- di-rect- da-ta."
Every little tap and every honeyed word accompanying them had my brain turning to mush.
"Now-, have- I- made- that- clear- in- your- mind-?
" Those words were much firmer and drawn out, the tap with each one, more deliberate.
Through my skirt the tip of her nails digging into my skin could barely be felt, but nevertheless I bit my lip to stop any pleasurable sounds from slipping out of me.
As lacking as these men were in some areas, I was impressed with how little they were reacting to her words.
But then again, men never seemed to share the sapphic obsession with dominant women.
Their male egos caused them to miss out because strip clubs, Hooters, and prostitutes were not the same and quite frankly trashy.
When men could prevent women from holding power, they did, preferring them as jobless, uneducated, insecure, and submissive housewives, who depend on them for everything.
I preferred the exact opposite, independent, confident, rich, intelligent, and definitely not submissive.
"Then- this- should- not- be- a- chal-lenge-. Would-n't- you agree?"
I was crumbling beneath her fingers.
After a few minutes more of this torture, I shifted in my seat.
But she paid no attention to me, her hand now mindlessly caressing it's way down my leg with soft patterns as she nodded along to the man rambling, seeming to have deemed him not worth her efforts.
Since she wasn't talking anymore, the tapping stopped.
Instead, her nails began tracing lazy circles around my bare knee, just below where my skirt ended.
She rested her chin in her other hand, her hair falling like a curtain across her face and hiding her expression. Judging by the way the man kept stumbling over his words, though, I had a feeling she was wearing the same intense look I'd seen countless times before.
I took a breath, parting my legs slightly. I’d been clenching my thighs together the entire meeting, leaving my muscles burning.
"Are- we- done- here-?" Those four taps—the sharpest ones yet—-dug into my unprotected skin, sending another hot rush of arousal through my body. My thighs clenched back together against my will, my mind going blank as my teeth dug into my lower lip to keep quiet.
"Um yes, I think so?” His voice contained slight anger, most likely from humiliation as he turned to the man sitting next to him.
The other man cleared his throat, as if afraid his voice wouldn't work.
I wondered if mine still would, but if I opened my mouth and Vanessa did anything I wouldn't be able to hold back the moans threatening to slip out.
"Yes we are, thank you Ms. Walton." The other man's confidence had vanished too, and I swore they weren’t the same men who'd sat there half an hour ago.
"Wonder-ful- Evelyn what do you say?" Those taps were unexpectedly light and sensual, as she turned to me for the first time this meeting. I was completely lost, not processing anything before my name— when she’d taken her hand off me and I could think again.
I stared into her eyes that became less narrow as she looked into mine, waiting for me to speak. I swallowed, needing a moment. Her gaze wasn't helping me think so I turned to the men.
"Yes," I answered simply with a friendly smile, pitying them.
Following Vanessa's lead in standing, my legs faltered, but luckily Vanessa was too busy dominating the handshakes she was sharing to notice.
I shook their hands afterwards with nowhere near half the intensity, still feeling subdued, before following Vanessa out the door in awe.
"It was inappropriate of them to waste our time like that. I'm scheduling a meeting with our partnership director to end all of Vector Line’s relations with them."
That seemed like an intense over reaction, but I didn't push. After her call this morning, which I didn't know much about, she seemed very frustrated with the company.
"I'm sure our next one will be better."
She nodded, giving me a playful eye roll. "Your optimism is adorable."
Adorable? Really?
Her grin widened, noticing my taken aback expression as I stopped moving, giving her a playful frown. She rolled her eyes again, grabbing my arm impatiently.
"Hurry up and drop the face, or we are going to be late."
"Your constantly pessimistic attitude is charming," I muttered letting her lead me through the halls.
She stopped dead in her tracks, turning to face me.
"What did you say?" Her smoldering look made all my previous need from the last hour return.
"Didn't you say we were going to be late?" I bit my lip, waiting for a response, but she simply grabbed my wrist again, pulling me forward.
"You don't know when to stop, do you, sweetheart?" My heart raced as the adrenaline I craved rushed through me, spurring me on.
"Maybe, but does it really bother you that much?" I knew this wasn't the time to test her if I didn't want to become the target of all her pent-up frustration. I just didn't care.
She was silent for a few seconds, seemingly focused on which room we were supposed to be entering.
"Trust me, it affects me more than you realize, Evelyn."
She whispered those words right as we entered the room, leaving me unable to reply.
They rang through my mind for the next hour but by the time the meeting ended the mood between us had completely changed.
The rest of the day was uneventful. Vanessa and I had gone over plans for the next day before parting ways.
That night, I planned to sleep in my own room, understanding that us sharing a bed was a one-time occurrence, only happening because of how vital my sleep was that night. I knew we’d spend the whole day together tomorrow, but tonight, lying in my bed alone felt like a withdrawal.
Vanessa had gone back to her room at 5 p.m. the moment our work obligations were done, claiming she had tons of work to catch up.
It was now 9 p.m., and other than ordering takeout, I hadn’t done anything.
I didn't have much work—only a few reviews, which I’d finished hours ago.
Tomorrow, Vanessa and I would explore Miami, so tonight I was content just staying in and recharging.
When my food came, the portions were far larger than anticipated. I’d gotten three appetizers, though each of them looked to be the size of an entrée. There was no way I'd be able to eat this all by myself, nor did I want to.
Even though she hadn't let it ruin her day, it was clear Vanessa was incredibly stressed. I doubted she’d thought to get food, as I’d kept checking the hallway, never once seeing her leave or anyone bring anything to her door.
Hesitantly, I walked over to her room, deciding to offer her some.
She opened the door, giving me a soft, clearly strained smile. Her eyes looked as if she'd been staring at a screen for hours on end.
"I was wondering if you were hungry?"
When her eyes fell upon the food in my hands, she looked up at me with a much lighter smile. "Yes actually, how thoughtful of you.” She tilted her head in skepticism, pursing her lips in knowingness. “I just finished my last task—why don't you come in?”