PLEASERS

Scarlett's POV

He lurks slowly toward my body, my legs spread apart on the white linen sheets of the king sized bed, awaiting him, desperately needing him deep inside of me.

With his jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed, he takes in every inch of my naked body. It’s evident by his appearance, his heavy breathing, he needs me too. His piercing stare, that animalistic look in his eyes has me pooling in anticipation.

Kneeling on the bed, I sit up on my elbows trying to meet him, when he abruptly puts a hand against my bare chest, pushing me back down, a little grin pulling at his lips as his head disappears between my legs.

Looking up to the ceiling, I clutch the sheets around me for support as his tongue finds my center, slowly licking up and around my little hub of nerve endings.

“Mmm...Oh,” I breath out, unable to find words, squeezing my thighs around his head, my mouth parted in pure pleasure.

His hands roam up my thighs, tightly squeezing as he applies more pressure to my clit.

“Ah, fuck,” I moan out, biting my lip at the sensation.

One finger becomes two as he begins working his hand in and out of me while flicking his tongue continuously on the most sensitive part of me.

I feel the orgasm building as I start writhing beneath him. Just as I’m close to losing it, he separates from me, a mischievous grin on his sexy, glistening lips, telling me he knows exactly what he’s doing to me.

He slowly crawls up my body, his hard, cock running up along my thigh, letting me know just how much he enjoyed that himself. I slowly drag my fingers over his defined shoulders, then chest, as his face turns serious, the desperation within him evident.

Lining himself with my entrance, he snakes his hand around the back of my neck for leverage, eyes in a trance on mine, biting down on his lip as he roughly pushes into me.

“Oh, shit.” I suck in a breath, feeling the fullness.

The forceful, dominant side of him has me pulsating around him, on the verge of orgasm with every thrust as he plunges back into me again and again.

“Tell me how much you missed this,” he says in a deep, hoarse tone, squeezing his hand gently around my neck, the action clearly getting him off.

“I missed it so fucking much,” I moan as he drives into me, his other hand finding my breast and squeezing my nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

The bed post is slamming into the wall from his movements, causing the picture frame above to bounce off of it. Sexiest way to break a painting.

“Tell me how much you fucking needed this,” he groans, his breaths becoming ragged, eyesight never leaving mine.

Unable to do anything but cry out in pleasure, the impending orgasm has my toes already curling as I arch my back, losing myself in the moment.

Just as I’m about to explode in pure pleasure, a piercing tone shoots through my ears, causing the pleasure to fly out of the window faster than a kid’s baseball.

The sound of a screaming baby.

I wake up abruptly from my dream, sitting up straight in my bed, the sun shining through the window of my bedroom, my face flushed, my pulse racing.

“I need to stop doing this shit to myself!” I curse out to the emptiness of my room, then fall back hard onto the bed, throwing a pillow over my face.

I can’t stop thinking about him. He runs my thoughts, controls my mind. It’s nearly impossible to escape. As much as I fucking hate him right now, and wish to forget his name, I still love him. I still love Toren.

I’ve never been in this predicament before. Never allowed my heart to open up enough to someone to allow them to occupy that delicate space in my mind that my heart seems to own. Yet, it’s his, all his.

I don’t want to think about him, I want to push the idea of him far out of my mind, yet everywhere I go, everything I see, reminds me of him, of us. I need to find a way to block those thoughts, those emotions, whatever way I can.

The calls have slowed, the messages sporadic, I even told Adrien not to mention his name to me again at work. Time, yes time, is what I need. In a few more weeks, maybe only a few more days, I’ll be better. I won’t think about him and I’ll finally be back to being me.

Heading into the Rasputin Center for the second time this month, I find myself ridiculously excited to see this presentation on the task I can dive head first into.

“Moe! Hello again, sweetheart! Come this way.”

Adam, this place’s Adrien, greets me in the lobby, wearing a new pair of quirky designer glasses, paired with a button up shirt, and slacks that look like they’re painted on his tiny frame. His shoes are unlike anything I’ve seen, some sort of bright neon colored Italian loafers, if that’s even a thing.

He’s definitely gay. His style is out of this world and into the future of fashion, where it’s a little too out there for people now, but you know in a bit of time, there will be knock-off looks of this everywhere.

He directs me to the conference room, the same one we entered last time, but this time, we have another guest.

“Moe, this is Emerson. Emerson, this is Moe, creative consultant at Scars Studios,” Adam declares to the turned back of a person I’ve yet to officially meet.

Slowly turning to face us, I’m totally surprised to see a woman, dressed in a tight pantsuit, with black short, jagged hair, and a pair of black framed glasses that make her appear quite intimidating.

“Ah, yes, Moe, it’s a pleasure to meet you finally,” she says with a straight, stern face, her voice, deep and serious, reaching out to grasp my hand.

She takes my hand in her tight, firm, but not bone crushing, handshake, and gives me the closest thing to a smile I think she has in the tank.

“I-it’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Emerson.”

I shake her hand with equal pressure, still surprised by the fact that she’s a woman. For some reason, I was hoping she was going to be a tall glass of sexy man I could use as distraction from my daily dilemmas.

“Thank you for meeting with me to help protect Scars anonymity.”

“Of course, and I’d like to formally apologize for any inconvenience I caused with your last visit,” she says in a very professional tone, her defined jaw giving her a very androgynous look.

“It’s fine, things happen, trust me, I understand.” I smile kindly, realizing she still has my hand.

She looks at me curiously, almost as if she’s surprised by my reaction, surprised in a good way. Maybe she assumed I was some crazy, uptight bitch?

“Ah, yes, well, I appreciate that,” she says, suddenly aware of the fact that she’s still holding my hand.

She drops my hand, sucking in a deep breath and letting it out with a determined veneer. I quickly glance over to Adam who has a curious look on his face, while eyeing Emerson.

“So, if you’d have a seat, I’d love to show you what I have prepared,” she says, making her way around the large circular desk to the projection screen.

“Yes, perfect,” I reply, finding a seat, as Adam pulls out the one next to me.

Emerson goes through her entire professional presentation, which I’m blown away by. They’ve really got things under control here and I kinda love it. She went over the aesthetics of the place, the mood they are striving for, while showing the main colors they are trying to go with and inspiration behind the whole creative design. It’s a sexy, yet sophisticated mood, one that draws out mature, yet classy vibes. It’s right up my alley.

“So immediately, I thought of Scars as the artist to design the space, naturally. I feel like she would be able to reach exactly what we’re looking for,” Emerson says, sitting down at the head of the large circular table.

“She-?” I quickly clear my throat, “Um, yes, Scars specializes in the look you’re striving for. I think it’ll be a perfect match.”

I catch myself at her assumption of Scars. She taps her fingers on the table while giving me a tight lipped grin with narrowed eyes, as Adam watches our interaction unfold.

“Great. I’ll send you with the presentation on a zip drive so you can keep that at the studio,” she says with a small grin, again, something I’m assuming she doesn’t do often.

“We’re beyond excited to have your team on board!” Adam squeals out, excitedly.

“This project has an expected deadline of the end of March, is that something that you believe to be doable?” Emerson questions, back to the serious tone.

“I will go over everything with Scars and we will get the timeline set,” I confirm.

“Great, well, I’ll give you my direct line so you can contact me at any point if you need to,” she says quickly.

Adam cocks his head and the confused expression on his face doesn’t go unnoticed. This must not be something she does.

“Adam, would you get that for her please?” she demands, snapping him out of his trance.

“Uh, yes, yes of course,” he says with a nod before running out of the room quickly.

After watching him exit through the closed door, I turn my head back over to Emerson, who’s standing there with an unreadable face. Feeling a sense of awkward silence, I swallow, trying to think of something to say before she suddenly speaks.

“I’m very impressed.” She raises her eyebrows, adjusting her glasses as she leans back on the edge of the table, crossing her legs at the ankle.

“Yeah, Scars is pretty talented.” I give a little uncomfortable grin as she reciprocates it, a little twinkle in her eye, as she appears to be studying my expression.

“I’m truly looking forward to working with you.” She gives her little half grin.

I can’t tell if she’s mocking me, joking around, or wants to fuck me on this table behind her. I literally cannot read this woman and it’s confusing the shit out of me. As I sit there trying to decipher the situation, Adam bounces back in through the door, handing me a personal business card with a different number written on the back of it.

“Ah, yes, thank you so much.” I smile, taking it from him.

“Any questions Scars has, any issues, feel free to call me anytime of day. I’m quick to call back if I’m unavailable,” she says while nodding.

“Thank you Emerson,” I reply, reaching out to shake her hand.

She grabs hold of it, shaking it again, while smiling with her eyes into mine.

I part from her as Adam guides me out of the building, before heading back to the studio. I love the vibe I feel from the place, they are fun, the space is gorgeous, and I can’t help but feel special. Emerson seems like the type that doesn’t like or connect to many people. Even Adam seemed surprised by her reaction to me.

I can only hope that this collaboration is the beginning of something great.

“So tell me more about this Adam creature. He’s piqued my interest,” Adrien declares, elbows leaning on the front counter of the studio, his hand resting in his hands.

“Oh my God, don’t you even start. What would Marcus think?!” I retort.

“He wouldn’t think anything, we broke up. Oops.” He shrugs, scrunching his nose, clearly showing no sad emotions whatsoever.

“ADRIEN! You’re horrible! Why did you break up?” I ask suddenly, upset by the news.

“Ugh, he’s just too much, I just can’t with him. He has all these expectations, wants me to meet the family, has plans of marriage, bla bla bla...” He twirls his hands in the air, while rolling his eyes.

I sit there, slow blinking at him in silence.

“That’s kinda how relationships go, ya numb nut.”

“Whatever, just wasn’t feelin’ it with him. Guess it’s time to dip my dick back into the Gaylantic and see if I get another bite!” He wiggles his eyebrows at me as I playfully smack him upside the head.

“Hey! Watch it, girl! Never touch a black man’s hair!” he snaps with attitude as I squeal out, quickly running back into the office laughing.

He tries chasing after me in his bright green stilettos, but fails to catch me before I can hide behind my office door, locking it quickly.

“Ima get you for that boo boo! This bitch here,” he says to himself through the door as I hear his heels clipping back to the front desk again.

Getting back behind my desk, I check my emails, going through some documents and sending the appropriate stuff over to Maggie to handle for me. She’s been staying at Ronan’s so often, I think moving in there will be happening soon as sleepovers get annoying.

Seriously, as a woman, packing up all the things you need to get ready on a daily basis is exhausting. It takes a lot for us to be presentable, unfortunately.

Clicking through and deleting the rest of the spam in my inbox, I come across a blank email from an unknown address.

Opening it, I scroll immediately to the bottom to see who it’s from when I see Toren’s name. Closing out of the tab abruptly, I look away, biting the inside of my cheek. He’s really trying to reach me, but I’m just not ready for that. He needs to figure his shit out first.

My mind and my heart are in disagreement. The push and pull back and forth like some sort of internal tug of war is draining me in more ways than one and the way I’m currently dealing with it is to do as I did with this email, close out, not deleting, but leaving it for another day, another time, when I feel better prepared to handle the sensitivity of my heart.

Until then, I gotta keep it moving. Maggie invited me to an opening of a new wine bar she recently discovered next weekend, so I decided it’d be best to focus on getting sexy and hanging with my main girl for the evening. At least I had something to look forward to, something to keep my mind occupied, while my heart attempted to heal itself.

As Adrien always says: A good man can make you feel sexy, strong, and able to take on the world. Oh wait, that’s wine. Wine does that.

Truer words have never been spoken. To the wine bar we go.