19. Meghan
NINETEEN
Meghan
C ooper closes the door and moves around the car to climb in next to me. He instructs his driver to take us to his penthouse. The fight has left me and I don’t bother to argue with him about taking me to my place, instead I pull out my cell and bring up Alex’s messages thread.
I’m not entirely sure what to say to her.
I hate lying. I drag my lip into my mouth, nervously nibbling at it as I stare out of the window at the passing city, contemplating what to text her.
If I think about this for much longer, she’ll have noticed I’m missing and get worried. I type out a message to her.
Meghan
Not feeling well. I’ve gone home. I’ll call you tomorrow .
I delete that text. I can’t use the excuse of feeling sick again. She won’t buy it for the second time in a row.
Think, Meghan.
I can feel Cooper’s gaze on me as I type out another message, but I ignore him.
Meghan
I saw a guy I met a few weeks ago. I’ve gone back to his place. I’ll call you in the morning.
Deciding that one might actually work, I press send before I can change my mind and put my phone back in my clutch.
The rest of the drive is silent, the rumble of the car and sound of the city outside the only noise. Even though I can feel his eyes on me, I don’t look at him. I can’t. If I do, I might close the distance between us and beg him to want me as much as I want him.
As we pull up to Cooper’s building, I get flashbacks to the morning I ran out of here looking like a disheveled mess. I’m lost in the memory and all that has happened since when the sound of Cooper’s voice breaks through my pondering. I know that tone—he’s still pissed.
“I’ll get the doors, Christopher. We won’t be needing you for the rest of the night. I’ll see you in the morning,” Cooper informs his driver before he gets out of the car and makes his way to my side.
I guess I’ll be getting a cab home .
“Thanks for the ride, Christopher. It was nice to see you again.” Our eyes connect in the rearview and he gives me a soft, apologetic smile. I wonder what he’s thinking about this situation. After all, he knows that Cooper and I work together.
“It was nice to see you again, Meghan,” he replies.
As I go to grab the handle of the door, it swings open and a scowling Cooper is impatiently waiting on the sidewalk.
“I see the drive didn’t get rid of your shitty mood,” I say under my breath, or at least I had intended to but I’m guessing by Christopher’s choked laugh and the smirk that Cooper’s unsuccessfully trying to hide, that I didn’t.
“Oops, sorry,” I say with zero remorse as I get out of the car and strut toward the front of Cooper’s building, an extra sassy sway to my hips.
Cooper catches up to me and places his hand on the small of my back, the familiar zing of electricity traveling up my spine from his touch as he guides me to the bank of elevators.
I don’t move away and instead I luxuriate in the contact of his hand on me and the way the heat radiates through my coat.
We walk across the lobby and when we arrive at the elevator, Cooper presses the call button, and the doors open almost immediately. Stepping inside, he presses the button for his floor and leans against the back wall, surveying me with his hands in his pockets. I’m momentarily distracted.
When did leaning become… sexy?
Pulling myself out of my own dirty thoughts, I step into the cart and turn my back to him.
We don’t say a word to each other on the ride up.
The tension builds within us and not just from our actions earlier in the night, it’s an awareness of each other that only comes with intimacy.
As the doors open on his floor, I lead the way along the corridor before moving aside to allow him to pass.
At his door, he unlocks it with none of the fumbling from the last time he brought me here, and we step over the threshold into his apartment.
I move to the middle of the living room and survey the white walls with colorful artwork hanging on them.
Even though I’ve worked for him for the last year, I haven’t stepped foot in his personal space aside from the night of the Christmas party.
With the front door at my back, I’m facing the floor to ceiling windows that give the perfect view of the Upper East Side. The lights of the city shine bright and from this high up, it’s hard to connect the bustling city with the fairytale laid out beyond the window.
Dragging my gaze away from the sparkling skyline of Manhattan, I take in the living room.
In the middle of the room is the comfiest looking gray couch facing a huge TV mounted on the wall.
In front of the couch is a low glass coffee table with remotes and magazines littered across it, making the space look lived in.
If they weren’t there, it would look cold, almost… clinical.
I turn to face Cooper, who’s observing me with his hands in his pockets. “Who was she?” I ask, lifting my chin, resolving to not get distracted by him.
“Nobody. ”
“So you allow people you consider nobody to touch you? To whisper in your ear? You put your hands around their waists and listen to them attentively?” I accuse him, my anger and jealousy evident.
“Who were the guys? I mean, I know who one of them was because he works for me.” He leans back against the door, his posture and tone relaxed, but the look in his eyes tells me he’s furious.
“I asked you first,” I murmur, suddenly ashamed of my actions.
“She’s Jamison’s sister. She’s like a little sister to me. If you had stuck around to watch, you would have seen Jamison come over. He actually wanted to say hi to you.”
Oh .
Well, it may be true that she’s like a sister to him, but I’m not sure it’s the same for her. Not with the way she leant into him, or how her hands ran over his body as if memorizing every line of him. We stare at each other for a moment.
I don’t want to admit I may have jumped to conclusions and retaliated in a very immature manner.
“What were you doing, Meghan? And don’t try to bullshit with the whole ‘just dancing’ thing. You were practically fucking them in the middle of the dance floor.”
“I’m sorry,” I sigh, hoping I can leave it at that, even though I know deep down that it won’t be enough. “I made an assumption about you and reacted. I shouldn't have.” I try to downplay my reaction .
“You’re right, you shouldn’t have. I meant it when I told you nobody touches what’s mine.”
“And nobody touches what’s mine, either.” I blurt out, my eyes going wide at the confession.
“Okay.”
“That’s it? Okay is all I get?”
“Yes, because you jumped to conclusions and did something you shouldn't have done. Out of the two of us, I have done nothing wrong.”
Okay, so he has a point and I don’t know what exactly just happened, because I was supposed to be the one mad at him, but I think all is… forgiven. I really hope it is anyway, because I don’t want him to be mad at me. Our whole thing was supposed to be about pleasuring each other.
That gives me an idea …
“What do you need from me, sir ?” I ask in my most sultry voice as I remove my coat and throw it over the back of the couch, my eyes never leaving his. I watch his eyes darken with lust and so, with an extra sway in my hips, I make my way toward him.
“Cut the crap, Meghan. When we aren’t in the office, you call me Cooper.
Especially when you’re about to be on your knees, choking on my cock like a good girl.
” He continues to lean against the front door, his hands in his pockets as if he hasn’t just uttered the dirtiest thing I’ve ever heard from his lips.
I stumble slightly as my legs turn to Jell-O in anticipation.
He reaches out and snakes an arm around my waist, tugging me tightly against him.
My eyes dart down from his eyes to his lips as I silently beg him to kiss me.
I want to taste him and take back some of the control in this situation by bringing him to his knees.
When he doesn’t give me what I want, without saying a word, I push out of his grasp and drop to my knees onto the soft carpet.
Reaching up, I undo the buttons of his jeans before tugging them down his legs and helping him to step from them.
His hand goes into my hair, lifting my head back and stealing my concentration as I’m about to put my hand into his boxers.
The look on his face is one of pure lust, and so I continue with my exploration, causing him to let out a hiss as I reach into his boxers and grip his already hardening cock.
Stroking him once and then twice before pushing his boxers down to his ankles, my eyes are mesmerized by his perfect cock.
Cocks are not pretty things, but my words just won’t do him justice.
He’s perfect in length and thickness and his swollen head has a drop of precum, just begging me to lick it off.
My tongue darts out and licks the salty bead off before I wrap my lips around his shaft and suck him deep into my mouth.
“Fuck. Baby, your pretty little mouth feels like heaven,” he pants, his hand tangling in my hair as he guides himself in and out of my mouth. “Don’t forget, it’s only for me.”
I hum in agreement, unable to speak with him filling my mouth, and it causes him to let out a guttural moan. The pace is slow as my mouth adjusts to his size. I can tell he’s trying not to fuck my face, but that’s what I want him to do. I want him to use me.
Sliding my mouth off of his cock with a popping sound, I lubricate him with my saliva as I stroke him up and down.
Using my tongue, I lick the underside of his cock, from his balls to his tip.
I flick the tip of his throbbing shaft with my tongue, alternating with licks and kisses.
Looking up, I gaze into his eyes as I guide his cock to the back of my throat and thank God for having no gag reflex.
“You’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you?” he whispers as he caresses my cheek tenderly.