Allure of the Vixen (3 page)

At that very moment Joanne reappeared, walking past
the other side of the bar, out toward the middle of the room, not looking our
way. The crowd partially parted for her, the men following her with their eyes,
even the women giving her room, the lioness in the den.

Dan was openly staring. “I don’t think I could
either. Cheat, I mean. But that woman, Joanne, she certainly would tempt me.”

I watched as Joanne left the room, leaving behind a
wake of unleashed hormones, thinking the same thing.

A week went by. I was on the road for some
out of town meetings, trying to put the events at the party out of my mind,
still somewhat intoxicated by Joanne’s allure. I studiously avoided going
anywhere near the part of the office where she worked.

The phone rang, and when I picked it up, without
preamble, a sultry voice, somewhat hushed, said, “I want to apologize for last
week.”

Even without looking at the internal caller ID I
knew her voice. Joanne.

“No apology necessary.”

“I think there is.”

“Okay, then, I accept.”

“I can’t talk now, you know I don’t have my own
office. I want to do it in person.”

“I’m not hard to find. You know where my office is,”
I said.

“People will talk if I come there, I’ve got no
business up on you floor. Is that what you want?”

It wasn’t. But I wasn’t sure what I
did
want.
Actually, I knew what I wanted. Her. But that wasn’t going to happen.

“Lunch, tomorrow,” she said.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I said, maybe
trying to convince myself instead of her.

“You afraid of being seen with me?”

That too,
I thought. And a sneaking, perhaps
unfair, thought. I didn’t know this woman from Eve. She might
be
Eve,
tempting me to do something I didn’t want to do, perhaps something to hold over
my head.

“Joanne.”

“I guess I was wrong about you.” Her voice had
changed, a little disappointment, maybe some anger, maybe some surprise.

“I don’t know what you were thinking, which kind of
guy classification you had me in. So I can’t respond to that.”

“I thought you’d at least give a woman a chance to
say she was sorry.”

I didn’t for a minute believe that Joanne was sorry
about anything. “What do you want, Joanne?” As beautiful as she was, I was
getting a little tired of the game. If this was her idea of teasing, it was
having the wrong effect.

“To see you during my lunch break,” she said. “You
have to eat, don’t you?”

I usually grabbed takeout and brought it back to my
desk. Sometimes I ate at the brasserie on the first floor of the building, but
so did almost half the office; if I ate lunch with Joanne there everyone would
see us, and not for a minute did I think anyone would believe that it had been
a coincidence. And maybe that’s what Joanne wanted, to manipulate me into a
position where everyone would see us together.

A silence can send its own communication. Joanne’s
was infused with patience. “You’re not going to give up, are you,” I said.

“Never,” she said, and now her sultry voice was
back.

“People will see us and talk. I don’t want that, and
I suspect you don’t either.” I’d never heard a whisper of Joanne doing anything
with anyone in the office, and I’m sure that kind of talk would have spread
like fire.

“You have an apartment just a few blocks from the
office.”

I did, but I wondered how she knew about that. It
was no secret, but I hadn’t mentioned it to her. I lived outside the city, the
apartment was a simple pied-a-terre, a bachelor one bedroom so I wouldn’t have
to make the long commute on late nights.

I should have just said no. I didn’t think she was
the type to make a scene in the office, make up some kind of story about me.
But I also knew she wouldn’t go away, there was something she had set her
sights on, something she needed to do.

And there were those eyes, and those fucking legs.

Against my better judgment, I said, “Tomorrow.
Noon.” And I gave her the address.

When I hung up the phone, I couldn’t decide if what
I feared more was seeing her, or not seeing her.

The next day I didn’t even go into the
office. I worked from my apartment, as I often did, my job being somewhat
mobile. Mostly though, I wanted to avoid walking the few blocks from the office
to my place at about the same time Joanne would be on that same walk.

I really had no idea exactly what she wanted. A few
thoughts did come to mind. Maybe she hoped I could help her get ahead in the
office. I was an executive, she wasn’t, but we worked in totally different
groups; I can’t imagine what I could have done for her, or what she thought I
could do for her. Talk to her boss maybe? Joanne couldn’t be so naïve to not see
how ridiculous that would be.
Hey, there’s this woman in your department, I
haven’t worked with her or anything, I don’t even exactly know what she does or
how well she does it, but I want you to give her a promotion.
The guy would
think I was an idiot, and he’d be right.

Some kind of money scam? That also appeared
unrealistic, Joanne was always dressed in stylish, expensive outfits, and wore good
jewelry. I’d seen her in diamond earrings a few times, big ones. I’d heard the
women in the office talk about her shoes, I knew nothing about shoes, but from
what they said Joanne spent plenty on her wardrobe. Could she possibly want a
sugar daddy?

I didn’t have enough to go on, so I put it out of my
head, as much as I could. I admit I was a bit more careful that morning getting
ready, shaving off the three day stubble I frequently sported, thinking more
than usual about my tie selection. I’d be going in to the office after our
lunch, and was dressed for the work day. I’m a bit into clothes, it’s where I
spent my money, having learned a long time ago that if you were going to spend
a long day in a suit, it was amazing how much more comfortable you’d be in
cashmere, even if the suit did cost three grand.

Joanne’s job was on the clock, I knew she’d only
have an hour. At quarter to twelve I set out a salad, grilled chicken I’d
picked up at the deli, and some cheese and crackers. Soda water and tea. I had
forgotten to ask what she liked to eat.

On the dot of twelve the apartment buzzer went off,
a little surprising to me, since my building had a doorman who was supposed to
announce all visitors.

I opened the door.

Joanne brushed past me in the small entry, touching
my arm briefly, personally, my soft cotton shirt no protection for the warmth
in her fingers. Caught between arousal and bemusement, I followed her into my
own apartment.

As Joanne eyed my place, taking it in, I had a few seconds
to study her. She was wearing an outfit slightly different from what she normally
wore to the office. I couldn’t quite place it at first, a slim skirt and
blouse, heels, stockings or pantyhose. Yet something was different. . .

More thigh. The dress was a little shorter. The
muscles in her calves, my weakness, more pronounced, set off by slightly higher
heels. The blouse was actually less form fitting than what she normally wore,
her breasts less pronounced, which only served to draw my eyes there, once I
pulled them away from her legs.

When Joanne turned to me I could see that she had
less makeup on, or so I thought, or maybe it was masterfully applied, her
striking green eyes pools of emerald bait. Her hair was up, not like she
normally wore it, she looked even more refined, more elegant. Just a few
strands of hair fell onto her neck, and I had to resist the urge to tuck them
up.

“It’s what I pictured,” she said. “Your place, it’s
so you.”

“You don’t even know me. How would you know what my
place would be like?” Although I think I could have pictured her place, something
very sensual, lush fabrics, rich colors.

She walked around my living room, touching a few
things, her eyes missing nothing. “It’s sparse without being spartan, masculine
without the usual trappings like too much leather and chrome. It’s direct,
practical, to the point, but with a little mystery behind it, no façade, yet
still inscrutable. Like you.”

“You can read all that from my choice of furniture?”

“And your art, and clothing, and where you live.”

“Speaking of which, how did you get by the doorman?”

“The same way you get into a nice club. I just
walked in like I belonged here, or was expected.” Joanne turned her killer eyes
on me. “Would you have stopped me?”

“Yes.”

She give me a hint of a smile. “That’s why you make
a million bucks a year and he’s a doorman.”

The mention of money made me think again of some
kind of scam, something Joanne was playing me for. Yet she seemed too smart for
that, if she was going to try to play me, money would have been the last thing
she mentioned. Unless she really wasn’t that smart, and I was just being
sidetracked by her beauty.

“Do you want something to drink?” I asked.

“I don’t really have much time. I only get an hour
for lunch.”

“Then we’d better eat.” I nodded toward the table.

“I never eat at lunchtime, I go to the gym. But I
bet you knew that. You didn’t think I came for food, did you?” Her eyes bore
into mine, I couldn’t tell if she was amused or was really interested in
whether I knew.

I parried. “You said something about an apology.”

“I thought you said I didn’t need to apologize.”

“I did. But then what did you come for?”

She gave me a bemused smile, as if she thought I
knew the answer, and was just toying with her, or she was entertained as she
toyed with me. I must admit she had me at a disadvantaged, I really didn’t know
why she was there. I know what would be on my mind if I was in a beautiful
woman’s apartment in the middle of the day, but there was something else going
on here, there had to be.

Or maybe not.

“Are you going to make me say it?” she asked, and
this time, I was sure she was curious as to how I’d respond.

“Yes. And no bullshit, I want you to be crystal
clear.”

She seemed satisfied by my response, her eyes
sparkling. She lifted her chin slightly, totally relaxed, matter of fact. “I
came to fuck. And I don’t have much time. Is that clear enough for you?”

Her words were like a detonator, an
explosion freeing me from a trap I hadn’t realized I was in. I took two steps and
wrapped my arms around her, my mouth finding hers. She hadn’t stepped toward
me, and she didn’t embrace me right away, or kiss me back instantly, there was
this brief moment, not of hesitation, but of waiting, as if she was making it
clear she wasn’t taking advantage of me, or seducing me, not on her own, I was
part of this.

Or so I thought at the time.

Then her mouth parted, her luscious lips seeking
mine out, not surrendering, Joanne wasn’t one to surrender, I could already
tell that, she was taking as much as she was giving. Her hands were on the back
of my head, pulling me toward her.

She was a very good kisser.

Part of me was screaming that this wasn’t a good
idea, I barely knew this woman, and while it certainly would not have been the
first time that I’d had sex with someone I didn’t know well, there was the
whole office thing to consider. But all of that was overwhelmed by her
presence, her exotic beauty, to say nothing of the fact that her tongue was in
my mouth and her breasts were pushing against my chest.

As one we began to move toward the bedroom, still
not breaking the kiss, bumping hard on the doorway, causing Joanne to laugh a
little. She broke the knot on my tie, pulling it down, another release.

We fell onto the bed, my hands reaching for her
breasts, feeling their firmness, rubbing the silk of her blouse against her,
sensing the outline of her bra. Her hand went to my cock, already rock hard. My
lips were back on her, I had so much to do, I needed to kiss her, to free her
breasts, to get my hand between her legs. . .

I heard her heels fall to the floor.

Twisting on the bed, totally consumed, I was mashing
into her, not able to think of any reason to stop, I couldn’t have stopped if I
wanted to. Even in the bar I hadn’t been this close to her, hadn’t been able to
take in her scent, my nose pressed against her neck, taking in her own essence,
beyond and within the atmosphere of her wispy perfume. Her fingers tightened on
me, I was grabbing for the zipper on her skirt.

“No, stop,” she murmured, but she didn’t push me
away, her mouth still on mine, her hand still on my cock.

I paused, but she shook her head, her tongue
caressing my lips. “Not that,” she said. “I have to go back to work in these
clothes, I can’t get them wrinkled.”

“If you came to fuck you should have prepared
better.”

“Who says I didn’t?”

I pulled away from her and she sat up on the bed.
She looked me right in the eye as she slowly unbuttoned her blouse. I helped
her take it off, revealing a half cut, lacy bra, revealing all the top of her
breasts, her nipples stiff, clearly visible through the material.

Joanne knelt on the bed, unzipping her skirt,
pulling it off and setting it on the floor. She was wearing stockings and a
garter, something I’d actually never seen a woman wear in real life. Her legs
were simply incredible, what I had observed before in her work clothing spectacular,
and yet even that had not prepared me for this, not a hint of flab on her
thighs, firm all the way to her hips. I think I moaned, this was my dream woman
body, toned, yet not muscular, feminine, yet not overly hippy or busty.

She was perfect.

I was unbuttoning my shirt, but it wasn’t fast
enough for Joanne, she pulled off my tie as I fumbled at my buttons, then she
yanked my shirt from my pants. “I want to feel your skin,” I said, as I pulled
her to me. Her belly touched mine and it was hot, like she had just stepped
from a sauna, yet her skin was smooth, not a hint of sweat, it was like a sun,
enveloping me. I pulled her close, kissing her neck, unsnapping her bra strap,
pulling her bra off, and finally our skin was together, fused.