Authors: Alana Davis
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Erotica, #Suspense, #Romantic Erotica
His Secret Desire
His Secret Desire
by
Alana Davis
Copyright © 2013
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
Copyright © 2013
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Warning: This work contains scenes of graphic sexual nature and it is written for adults only(18+). All characters depicted in this story are over 18 years of age.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
The sound of a ringing phone cut through the office. A polite voice answered the phone as another piercing ring went off a few cubicles away. I sat at my desk, typing on a company computer, joining the rhythm of the dozens of other keyboards that attract hands like magnets. A fluorescent light flickered above me, dying slowly.
I called engineering to fix the nuisance. Over the phone a gritty voice told me it was going to be a few hours.
Everything around me was gray. Neutral colors only broken up by colorful frames on the wall that surrounded memories that were supposed to give life to an otherwise dreary corporate wasteland. I looked around my desk and studied the photographs I’ve hung on my little wall, taking a break from the spreadsheet that had occupied more of my morning than I care to admit.
The photo of my college graduation stared back at me from a past that I can still clearly remember. Genuine smiles across both of my parents’ faces, a rare sight indeed. For once they weren’t throwing harsh words at each other. It was a day without fighting. A day devoid of arguments leading to bitter silences. We were all happy.
I reached out to touch the photo, as if I could somehow go back to that day. A little laugh escaped me as I remembered my first days at college as a nerdy girl who kept to herself. Scared to speak up in class, even when I was sure I knew the answer. Four years later, posing with my parents for that picture, I was a different person.
I had joined the orientation committee early on in college as a way to meet people, and before long I had become a leader of the group. We proposed a Casino Night event that I was to organize. I spent days making phone calls, getting the proper paperwork filled out and signed, and coordinating all the members of the committee. When the night of the event came, I watched all of the students flooding the event hall and felt like I had accomplished something real.
The computer screen before me glared bright with the unfinished spreadsheet. The sounds of office conversations in quiet, polite tones filled my ears. My days at college are gone. A memory encased in a picture frame. The girl who blossomed into a woman capable of taking charge is now sitting in an office chair typing out mindless reports. That woman is me now.
I looked at the memories on my cubicle wall. My parent’s smiling faces looking back at me, now just memories encased in cheap plastic frames. I could feel the tears climbing up behind my eyes, daring to fall down my cheeks and ruin my composure. I breathed in slowly, fighting them back to the depths of the sadness where they came from.
I checked my phone for what seemed like the hundredth time since I had sat down. The phone’s clock told me it was only a few minutes past eleven in the morning. I scanned the office, looking for Emily Jones. Emily would be a nice change of pace from the banality of the office. I rose from my desk and spotted Emily in the corner, smiling and running her hand softly through her hair while listening to some young college intern tell some story just out of my earshot. Emily’s hand kept returning to the intern’s shoulder, a flirtatious laugh coupled with her every touch.
I walked up to them, interrupting the young man’s story. “Hey, do you want to grab a girls’ lunch with me?” I asked, looking at Emily pleadingly.
“Ok, Samantha, I’d love to,” Emily said, her eyes narrowing seductively at the young intern. I noticed him blush before he walked away.
“So, a new love interest I see?” I asked.
“Oh Dave? The intern? Hardly,” she said, laughing. “It was just a nice, innocent conversation.”
“You? Innocent?”
“You know, you could go for some more innocent conversations with some of the guys around here. At least for some practice talking to guys. It couldn’t hurt!” Emily said.
We boarded the crowded elevator and Emily pressed the button for the cafeteria. She turned to me and whispered in my ear, almost too loudly, “When was the last time you even talked to a guy, let alone went on a date?”
I elbowed her, giving her a look that I meant to convey
shut up!
but only managed to suppress my approaching laughter. We got off at the cafeteria laughing, my embarrassment all but forgotten.
“And when was the last time you were on a date? Twenty minutes ago?” I asked.
Emily and I sat down in the cafeteria by the window. I picked at an Asian salad with chicken that I barely put any dressing on. Emily took a large bite of a cheeseburger with all the fixings.
Satisfaction spread over her face as ketchup ran down her chin. She wiped it off and put the cheeseburger down to eat a few fries that she greedily lapped up more ketchup with. I watched her ravenous eating with a sense of awe.
“I had the best date last night. Maybe of my entire life. First off, he was drop-dead gorgeous. Like a young Marlon Brando mixed with George Clooney. Even through his suit I could tell he was fit, like that crazy driven type who spends too much time at the gym and eats nothing but grilled chicken and kale.” Emily paused and looked up to the ceiling as if savoring another bite of her cheeseburger.
“So he brings me out to this amazing fusion Chinese place downtown where he knows all the waiters and then the chef personally brings us a special entree that he designed for us on the spot! It was incredible! After the restaurant, he throws me in a cab and we bounce from club to club. Not those awful popped-collar ones but these clubs where there aren’t even signs out front. He just knew a whole string of them and brought me dancing all night. And my God, he could dance. I mean, really dance.” A smirk crossed Emily’s face. She finished her cheeseburger with one large bite and sat back in her chair.
“So you really liked him? What was his name again?”
“It was either Roger or Robert, not sure. Either way, he was way too into himself and status-obsessed. Like, he believed he was God’s gift to women. But I can’t deny that there were parts of him that I definitely liked,” Emily said, still chewing.
A man in his late twenties walked by us and nodded to Emily with a smile. Emily smiled and tossed her hair back gently. As he walked away, Emily turned back to me.
“Why don’t you go for any of the guys around here? Like that guy, Steven Draven. Handsome, successful, not a bad conversationalist either.”
“I take it you know this from first-hand experience?”
“Little ol’ me? Well no, I’ve never gone out with him. But Cathy from accounting went out on a couple dates with him and said she had a fantastic time. His dad owns a cabin in the Hamptons and he even has a mini-yacht. I mean, come on! What is more perfect for a weekend of fun than that?”
“Well, maybe I’m not looking for random fun with these executive types. I don’t want to be some random weekend fling for these guys to brag about to each other. And if Cathy had such a fun time, what happened?” I asked, leveling my eyes playfully at Emily.
“Who knows? She got bored. He got bored. It doesn’t matter. And anyway, it doesn’t matter what these guys think of you. Who said you’re the weekend fling? You have some fun. They have some fun. It’s no attachments all around and no one gets hurt.”
Emily pointed to a group of five guys sitting together. “What about one of those guys? Maybe James?”
“First off, James is very nice. A sweetheart, really. But haven’t you noticed just how nice he dresses all the time. How meticulous he is with his ensembles? Have you ever talked to James at length? You’d probably find the two of you share a lot of the same...interests.”
“James is gay? Well, that explains why he doesn’t respond to me at all. How could any straight man resist this?” Emily asked, tossing her head back dramatically.
I laughed. “Ok there, Miss Irresistible. Who else could be my possible Casanova?”
“Dave Schuman.”
“Dave Schuman. The same Dave Schuman who is married with two beautiful daughters that he feels compelled to show to every single person who talks to him for more than two minutes?”
“Yes, but he never talks about his wife, now does he?” An evil smirk spread across Emily’s face. She winked and tried to suppress her giggles.
“Very funny. You’re terrible, you know that?”
“Oh, lighten up. What about Dennis Malick?”
“The gambling-addict whose wife left him last year after he bankrupted them in one all-out downward spiral of a weekend?”
“Yeah, but just imagine the time in Vegas he could show you!” Emily said.
I was laughing with Emily. It felt good to be having lunch with her, talking about some of the men in the office. To be honest, anything beat moping at my computer desk brooding over my life. Each one of the men looked less appealing than the last, but even talking about dating anybody was exciting. And who knows, maybe I would start seriously dating again. Emily was right, it had been too long since my last date. I wasn’t about to lie down and be some “fun time” for some rich-boy, but maybe I could meet a guy worth dating. A good, nice guy.
“Alright, so you’re too good for all of these guys, huh? What about Alexander Strauss? Would you be too good for him?” Emily asked.
“Come on! Really? You think I’d want to date that old gauntly looking creep? I just imagine his black eyes staring at me in an attempt to suck out my soul or something,” I said with disgust.
“What are you talking about?! Do you even know who I’m talking about?” Emily asked, shocked.
She took out her phone, her fingers quickly working on the screen. Holding the phone out so close to me it was practically touching my face, Emily let out a histrionic breath of disappointment.
“Does this look like some gauntly creep to you?”
It certainly did not. My heartbeat quickened. The portrait on Emily’s phone showed a man with beautiful, piercing blue eyes that seemed to stare out at me through the screen, not in an attempt to suck out my soul but to melt it. My attraction was immediate in a way that I had never experienced before. His faced showed little emotion; a slight smile that exuded a professionalism necessary to his stature in the company, nothing more. His hair framed his sharp features that commanded my attention. An internal struggle was already developing inside of me. He was beautiful like a god.
As if in defiance of me, my eyes would not look away from Emily’s screen. I fought against telling Emily that he was unlike anything I’ve ever seen. I did not want to reveal how I really felt.