August 29, 2022
Alexa! Queue ‘Return of the Mack!’
That song describes exactly how I’m feeling today.
This morning started off pretty routine.
I got up, showered, got dressed, and left the house.
I got a breakfast sandwich and an iced coffee this morning and arrived at the office without a minute to spare.
Today felt brighter; the sun was shining, and the birds seemed to be singing their own melodic tunes.
I decided a couple of weeks ago that I would listen to affirmations and motivational speeches in the morning, instead of music. Maybe that could alter my mindset about taking on the day, and I will say, it has done wonders for my mood.
“If you look at the meeting minutes from last week’s conference, you’ll see the breakdown of the budget…” The man said in the most agonizing voice.
I watched as he shared his screen and then gave us the estimated budget for the new build coming to the city. I took notes, looking up every so often to double-check my numbers.
As we neared lunchtime, I was not seeing an end to the meeting in sight. He was talking slower than ever and still had 5 more key points to address. I scoffed, knowing that I would be having a late lunch.
Interrupting the meeting was a knock at the door. I was confused because everyone in the office knew not to interrupt me on Mondays unless it was necessary.
I muted the microphone.
“Come in,” I called out.
It was my receptionist; she came in, and her face was beet-red. She stood against the door, hugging a folder. I gave her a blank stare, wondering what had her so flustered.
“I’m sorry, Boss. I know you don’t like to be interrupted. But he said it was urgent. So, I—"
I was about to ask her who “he” was, but I didn’t need to, because he appeared in the doorway.
Admittedly, a smile crept up on my face, and I rolled my eyes when I saw him standing there.
The man whom I hadn’t seen in two months or spoken to in just as long.
The man who promised to make me dream about the things that he did to me for years to come.
The guy who made good on that promise too, because he’s been the subject of all my dreams. My brain kept replaying the night we spent together on a loop, and my body screamed for the moment when he could do it again.
Dinero.
“It’s fine,” I assured her as he came in and walked slowly toward my desk. She smiled and left in a hurry.
“Hey, pretty.” He said barely above a whisper.
“Hi,” I said, forcing myself to breathe through my nose and not show him the effect that seeing him again had on me.
“Excuse me, Madame. Is everything okay?” One of my colleagues asked. I had completely forgotten that I was still on camera.
“Fine, I just got a visitor in my office.” I smiled graciously and quickly pressed the mute button again.
Dinero didn’t take a seat; instead, he put his palms on my desk and leaned over it. The smell of his cologne and the freshness of his breath invaded my senses as he stared down at me.
“Let’s go for lunch.”
“As you can see, I’m busy going over budgets. I can’t do that but thank you for the invitation.”
“Right.” He said as he rounded the desk and crouched to get into view of the camera.
“Good afternoon, gentleman.” He unmuted the speaker and spoke to the board members. I was too stunned to speak.
Neither of them seemed surprised, but they actually sounded glad to see him. They exchanged greetings.
“Madame here is going to step out for today. If someone would be so gracious as to record the second half of the meeting and send it to her, I’ll appreciate it.”
“Sure.” They all said in unison before he disconnected without letting me say a word.
I sat there, mouth wide and in shock.
“Why would you do that, Dinero? That was very unprofessional on my part. They’re definitely going to talk about me.” I scolded him.
“And if I hear a word about it, I’ll pull the funds from that same project they’re raving about. I just cleared the funding for it yesterday. Now let’s go.” He shot back. It was more of a demand than a request.
“Dinero.” I protested once again.
He looked at me with cold eyes and waited for me to oblige his request. I didn’t, though, and when I didn’t move fast enough, he cupped my chin, demanding eye contact.
“Pretty, I don’t like to repeat myself.” He said as he peppered kisses over my lips. His hands lightly brushed my breast through my shirt, making my nipples harden. He pinched it. My body betrayed me, and a moan escaped my mouth. My eyes closed for a second, but then I quickly opened them.
“You can’t just show up here after all this time and dismiss my meeting and think that I’m supposed to jump at your command.”
His eyes went to the empty screen and then back to me. He flashed that smile, the one that made my clit tingle, and then he said, “I already did.”
I rolled my eyes.
“What if I say no, I don’t want to go to lunch with you?”
“Then I’ll kiss your forehead, and you can resume your meeting.” He said matter-of-factly.
I rolled my eyes and then opened the drawer in my desk to grab my purse. I turned back toward him, and he extended his hand to help me out of the chair. He couldn’t hide the look of triumph written across his face if he wanted. I nudged him.
“You are unbelievably arrogant.”
“So, I’ve been told.” He said as he guided me through the office, and I told the receptionist to forward all my calls.
Inside the truck that awaited us were flowers sitting on the backseat.
“Here, I brought these for you.” He said as he placed them in my lap and then kissed my temple.
I turned to him with a puzzled expression.
“Dinero, what’s going on?” I questioned.
“Pretty, since the night that we spent together, I can’t get you off my mind. Your touch, the way you taste, your natural scent that lingered on my sheets and my pillowcases. I want to get to know you on a personal level. Not just for one night.” He admitted.
My ego told me that I didn’t have “one night only” pussy anyway. I’ve always assumed that we’d cross paths again at some point. But the way he adamantly told me that he doesn’t have time for a woman, I never would have guessed that he’d be in front of me singing a different song.
“What does that mean?” I had to ask for clarity.
“I want you to be mine, pretty.” He stated.
“Your submissive?” I asked, still confused.
“No.” He chuckled. “In one night, I can tell that pretty isn’t good at being submissive.”
I laughed before he continued. “I want you to be mine. Mine to call when I can’t get you out of my head. To take to lunch on a random workday. Mine to learn and protect. I want to know what makes you laugh when you’re not nervous. What ruins your day and how to fix it.”
For the first time, I felt my heart skip a beat or two. My stomach fluttered, but just as quickly, the moment subsided.
“That’s a very bold statement for someone who only spent a night with me.”
“It is.” He agreed.
“Then why say it?” I questioned.
“Because one thing I learned about myself is that if something has the power to make me lose control, I need to pay attention to it. Kissing you, cuddling you, having you in my bed afterward and breakfast the next morning, were all me losing control.”
I nodded. That was a lot to take in.
“I understand.”
He laughed.
“Honestly, I feel the same way that you did about relationships. I can’t reciprocate those feelings. Especially not right now.” I was honest.
“I don’t expect you to.” He said, then leaned forward and claimed my mouth. Our lips together did something that I couldn’t imagine. I grabbed the back of his head. Letting him devour me. We fought for dominance, and he won. He sucked my lips, making me whimper.
Then he pulled back and kissed my forehead just as the truck slowed to a complete stop in front of a tall building.
I recognized it immediately; it was the headquarters of his company.
He pushed the door open and stepped out onto the pavement.
He reached his hand out and waited for me to place my hand in it.
But I didn’t. It was broad daylight; people were coming and going from the large office. I didn’t need the rumors swirling.
I disregarded his hand and stood next to him.
“Dinero, we’re in public.”
“Pretty, I don’t give a fuck. Let’s go.” He chuckled and grabbed my hand. Our fingers interlocked as we started walking through the building. I took some time to admire its structure; I had always passed this building but had never been inside. It was designed beautifully.
He took me in an elevator and pressed the button to the top floor, which required a security code to access. Once we stepped off, the heat from the sunny Chicago day hit me immediately.
I fanned myself as we stepped off the elevator onto a rooftop.
I looked around in awe at the scene around me.
He had transformed the entire roof into this beautiful scene.
There were thousands of white roses, cashmere table runners, gold flatware, crystal glasses, and my initials embroidered into the linen napkins.
I smiled.
“This is beautiful,” I said, glancing at him, then back toward the view.
It was like every time I looked, I saw another detail that made me blush.
Music started softly as a chef, a hostess, and a security guard stood nearby.
He invited me over to the table set for the two of us, and I sat down across from him. We talked for hours, but it was this one particular part of the conversation that changed the way I viewed him. He said that he was good at reading people. I told him to tell me what he thought about me.
He responded.
“I don’t know anything about you. You’re hard to read.”
I asked, “If that’s the case, how can you say you want me after one night?” I circled back to that question. For some reason, it was eating away at me.
“I don’t.”
My fork froze mid-air, and I laughed before finishing my bite of stuffed chicken.