Chapter 9
Alessa
I’m sitting in one of the most exclusive restaurants in Portland. The kind that requires an annual membership that totals into the hundreds – no, thousands – of dollars, and that’s only to guarantee you a spot on most of the nights you want. You still pay for the food and drink at the end of your stay, and looking at this menu has me shaking in my brand-new Prada heels.
I don’t know how I’ve ended up in this restaurant, eating this food, wearing these clothes, and gazing upon one of the hottest women I’ve ever met.
A woman I happened to lose my virginity to only a few days ago.
I may have panicked and run out on her before she realized I skipped out on the limo ride, but by this Monday afternoon, I was agreeing to be her new personal assistant… and girlfriend.
One of the first things Julianna did was send me to get some nice clothes. I showed up at the designated department store where she had a credit line and walked out with three new outfits, two new pairs of shoes, and a palette of makeup. I never thought in a million years I would wear a designer dress like this on someone else’s dime! Because my Prada shoes aren’t cute enough, I’m wearing a matching Chanel dress that hugs my body and covers my skin at the same time. I’m not stupid. I know what this sapphire blue does for my new…
New…
Dear God, is she actually my girlfriend?
No way. This is a lark. This will be over the moment she’s bored with me.
Although… can a woman who looks at me like this get bored of me?
I’m like a blushing virgin all over again every time I meet her eyes across the table. One hour ago, we were at a function thrown by one of Julianna’s biggest business associates. We weren’t staying long. Not when we were both hungry and the only thing available to eat was finger food. As soon as it was socially acceptable, Julianna put her arm around me and swept me out of that small gathering of people who run half of the city. Who knew that even a small one like Portland had that kind of rich life lurking beneath its rainy streets?
“You are so gorgeous,” Julianna says, leaning across our intimate table in its private room. The only people we’ve seen since sitting down are the sommelier and waiter. Julianna ordered for me after asking if I had any allergies. Granted, the woman ordered me a salad, but it’s one of the biggest, most delicious, heartiest salads I’ve had in my life. I won’t be hungry.
Not that I have much appetite now. I’m still reeling from the magic of the day, our first sexual encounter swimming in the deep recesses of my memory. The way she kissed me, dipping her tongue into my throat and caressing every inch of my mouth. The way she pinched my skin, sensually, easing my legs open and making me wet. The way she fucked me! Can’t forget that!
“You’re a gorgeous woman yourself.” I feel brave saying that. Who am I to tell Julianna Marcon that she’s gorgeous? Of course she knows that. She could be a model for any European designer desperate enough to have her. Look at her! The healthy glow of her skin goes perfectly with her milk-white blouse and blue and gray striped skirt. Her jacket hangs over the back of her chair. A delicate Cartier watch glistens on her wrist. I remember how cool it felt against my thighs Friday night when she pulled my legs open and went down on me. Down! On me! Shit. Now I’m blushing. I had told myself I would keep this relationship professional because I don’t delude myself into thinking it’s forever, or that she takes it seriously.
It’s safe to say I have no idea what’s going on when she opens a Moleskine notebook and pulls a hefty pen from her pocket. My father has a pen like that. He keeps it locked up in his office because it’s so nice – and expensive. Says it’s only for signing important documents or writing personal letters that need an extra touch. Doesn’t it make sense that someone like Julianna Marcon would in turn treat her pen so flippantly? She could lose that thousand-dollar pen at any moment, and she doesn’t care! She probably has ten more!
This is too much. No wonder I need wine and a fan blowing against my flustered skin.
“As much as I would like to gaze into your delightful eyes, Alessa, I’m afraid there are some things we must go over if we are to have a relationship like this, let alone a public one.”
I fold my hands on the table and give her my meeting face. Too bad my coworkers often say it makes me look constipated.
“Absolutely, madam.”
A smile briefly flashes on her visage. Ah, yes, I said madam, which she likes. A lot. Because Julianna Marcon is the kind of woman who takes charge in all areas of her life.
Including her sex life. With me.
“We need to talk about the terms of this relationship.”
I nod. Yes, it’s a good idea, isn’t it? This isn’t a conventional relationship. We literally hooked up Friday night, and she decided I was her new girlfriend. I’m playing along because… well, do you see this woman? She’s like sex walked into a tailor’s and said, “Put me in a dress. I’ve got women to fuck, and I need to look good doing it!” The fact I might get spoiled in the process has crossed my mind. I mean, I get to keep this outfit. Even if we broke up tomorrow, I could still shove this in the back of my closet until I need it for a wedding, interview, whatever.
Julianna slides her Moleskine across the table, careful to avoid our empty wine glasses and my bowl. “I’ve jotted down some rules as they’ve occurred to me over the past few hours. Let me know if you have any questions.”
Rules, huh?
I keep my reaction neutral as I hold the notebook and study Julianna’s handwriting in the candlelight.
1.Exclusivity is key. No other people. I expect to be the only one involved. Finding out about another lover would be grounds for dismissal.
What a business-y way of putting that. “Don’t worry, Ms. Marcon,” I say. “I can’t say I’m seeing anyone else right now, nor do I want to.” Before her smugness can choke me, however, I continue, “I hope that this is a two-way street, though. I wouldn’t feel fantastic knowing you’re still ordering up other interns to do the deed with them on your desk.”
I worry about offending her, but I can’t let it go unsaid. If Julianna wants to be exclusive with me, that’s fine. Like I said, I’m not seeing anyone else anyway. But I’ll be damned if she gets to still fuck other women while I’m expected to be Miss Pretty & Chaste outside of her.
“That is ideal, yes.” Is that all I’m getting from her? “I think you’ll be more than satisfactory for me, Alessa.” Her eyes linger on my breasts, perfectly outlined in sapphire blue in this dress. I may not show off any cleavage right now, but she knows what it looks like, fabric be damned. “I would worry more about you.”
“Me?” She’s kidding, right?
“Of course. You’re a beautiful young woman who is only beginning her sexual journey through life. People can sense that.” She shrugs as if I should be happy with that answer.
“All right, then.”
“Keep reading, please.”
I glance at the Moleskine. “2. There will be no fraternizing or flirting with anyone else.” Oh, was this about what happened earlier today?
There I was, standing in the lobby of my boss’s building when a young man in a nice suit approached me and asked for directions to a specific office. Since I knew exactly where it was, I was more than happy to help him get to his job interview. Except Julianna chose that moment to approach and turn into Ms. Jealousy, because how dare I talk to anyone else!
I had almost forgotten about it, thanks to the other nice things that have happened today. But now that she’s dragging it up, all I can think is that I’m involved with a possessive woman.
“This is one of those things that requires trust, Julianna.” I clear my throat. I may only be twenty-one, and my boss is in her thirties, but I’ll be damned if she makes me feel small right now. I know about trust. Granted, not in a relationship like this, but does it take rocket science? “You have my word that I will not ‘fraternize’ or outwardly flirt with anyone while you and I keep this arrangement. That’s common decency. Now, that’s not going to stop me from talking to people, you know? I don’t care if you’re convinced that they’re flirting with me. If I’m not flirting back with them, you have no grounds to get angry with me.”
Her face is set in half-scorn, half-amusement. Does she think I’m cute? Or is she obsessing over sex? It’s both, isn’t it?
“Fine. I’ll trust you.” She squeezes her pen in her hand. “There’s more. Go on.”
“3. You are to accompany me to both formal and informal functions as your schedule permits.” Seems fair. Except for one thing.
“You do know I’m still in school, right?” There’s a reason I only work at her office during the afternoons… because I’ve got classes in the morning.
“I vaguely remember something about that. Only a couple here and there, correct? Forward Vern your usual schedule and he’ll work it into mine.”
“A couple? Here and there? Julianna, I’m going to school full time.” I spent my hours this weekend thinking about her and doing my homework. There’s a paper due soon! “I have no intentions of taking a sabbatical because I’m dating someone.”
“No,” she grumbles through gritted teeth. “Of course not. Like I said, forward your class schedule to Vern and he’ll make sure it works out with mine.”
Not sure how I feel about her executive assistant scheduling our banging, but okay.
“When does your term end?”
“June.”
“Ju… you’re serious?”
“Absolutely.”
“Fine, but once your term is over, I get to have you whenever I want. This summer, you belong to me, do you understand?”
I swallow, hard. Whenever she speaks with such authority, I admit I get… turned on. Damnit. That’s not healthy, is it? I’m not supposed to get horny when a woman shows me her possessive streak. Aren’t we supposed to discourage that? Isn’t it unhealthy? Why am I surprised, though? A woman like Julianna, born into privilege and used to getting her way, is going to think I’m her damn possession she gets to do whatever she wants with. I should probably be blessed that she’s willing to work around my school schedule for the next few months.”
“For one thing,” she continues with the same tone of voice, “my brother is getting married in a few weeks. I’m his best woman, mate, whatever, and I wouldn’t mind having a date. I don’t care if you have a final that day, Alessa, you’re coming with me to that wedding.”
“I’m sure it will be lovely. Where’s it going to be?”
“Some vineyard near Salem. God knows if I remember what it’s called.”
“Then it’s nearby! That’s good, right?”
“Good for you and your school schedule, I suppose.” Please. Like this woman didn’t go to a nice university that expected her to show up at least once a week.
I close the notebook and hand it back to her. “I think three things at a time is more than sufficient, Ms. Marcon.”
She studies my face before snatching the Moleskine out of my hand. “Very well. When initializing new negotiations, it’s good to let things digest for a couple of days, anyway.”
I’ll pretend she’s not talking about me like I’m a new merger and acquisition. “Exclusivity and pledging to not flirt with other people. Sounds all right to me.”
“We’ll discuss the other things later.” Julianna shrugs back into her jacket and checks her phone. “It’s getting late. We should head back to my place now.” She presses a button on her phone and stands up, offering her other hand to me.
“Your place, is it?”
“I swear to God, you bucked me Friday night, you’re not getting away from me tonight.”
I swallow again. What am I swallowing? Certainly not wine. Doesn’t taste like bile either, thank goodness. Perhaps it’s some of the last of my innocence slipping down my throat.
As I take her hand and stand up, my tight skirt keeping my thighs pressed together, I think that’s exactly what Julianna wants to do to it. She’s going to fuck the last of my innocence away. That gleam in her famished eyes says it all – and it sends a thousand currents through my body, heart, and soul.
I’m reaching the point where I can’t tell the difference between the three, and that’s dangerous. Yet not as dangerous as wanting to walk away from Julianna Marcon and her promises of Earth-shattering experiences.