Copyright ©  [Michael Harper]
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Basil O’Mallan set his Kahlúa cocktail on the table. His hand shook slightly as he nervously licked his lips. Renata “Nae” Denise Camacho sipped her screwdriver drink. As she watched from beneath her glasses as Basil pensively picked at lint on his pants. She shifted in her chair. He was nervous. That was clear.
What on earth did he want? She thought.
The only time she had spoken to him was when he called her office because of a company error he caught. He was the project manager that made her bosses at ease, but far above her station.
She heard he was a professional, and no one knew anything personal about him. She’d seen him in the last few months’ meetings. He always set his eye contact with her boss and his office manager.
She never felt his eyes stray in her direction while she took notes and listened in. Unquestionably, she warmly greeted him out of respect. His calloused hands were brimming with strength and proof he worked doggedly. He was alluring... in a gentle, geeky way.
She mused he was about middle-to-late thirties. Around ten years more seasoned than her. She wondered why he called her on the workday to meet for lunch. She was fascinated that he drank alcohol during his work hours. Nae drank her last as he picked up the tab.
“Well, I better get right to it,” Basil leaned back. “I need you to teach me some math.” He locked eyes with her. “I need you to divide your legs and add one.”
She had a habit of staring out windows and watching the seasons go through the motions. Yet, what he said yanked her out from her musings. “What?” she exclaimed, nearly dropping her glass.
Today, the weather showered the café window with fat raindrops. Most people didn’t appreciate walking under a tragic, blue-gray sky. It was the “stay your ass home, binge-watch in your underwear” baby-making weather.
Her attention wasn’t fully on him until he spoke the most stunning words she’d ever heard. He didn’t have any connection with her. Not yet. She’d been exhausted from work, but she wasn’t about to kick her shoes off and let this man drain her special liquids.
“You don’t expect a man my age has to say that twice, do you?” he said with confidence.
Nae leaped to her feet. “Are you nutty?”
Basil lunged for her, grabbing her wrists. His swift action caused her glass to spill vodka-orange juice down her blouse.
“I just thought, you being you, you’d be willing,” Basil said as he smiled slyly.
“What the fuck?”
“The last email you sent.”
“What email?” Her face got hotter.
“Computers are funny things. You think you replied to only one person, but the whole company sees it. You intend to snapshot for yourself or an app, and it gets diverted in cloud space to a stranger.”
“You fucker, what did you do?”
“Actually, that’s the point. I did nothing. Not yet.”
“The hell are you talking about?”
“Relax. Your secrets are safe with me.” Besides, I just confided my biggest secret to you. I trust you. You can trust me.” Basil eased his grip on her wrists. He smiled more pleasantly.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Renata knew it was useless pretending, but felt she had to try.
“The stuff in your email. It was personal.”
“What email?” Nae’s tone was flat. She never felt so... exposed. Manipulated and violated all at once. It was making her wet.
“I wanted to be sure you were the right woman.” He smoothly touched her hair.
“What email?” she repeated. Knowing full what he was referring to.
“I can’t wait to fuck you to countless orgasmic waves.”
Renata looked into his deep earth tone eyes. There was an urgency there. A hunger so raw, it spoke to her. Her nipples hardened under her starched blouse. Her breathing came quicker.
She doesn’t know why she said it, but she did. “You promise?” Her vision tunneled as she wondered how he would feel, thrusting his cock into her warm wetness. Knowing the feel of his hands roaming her body.
Basil had spent months working up the nerve to corner Renata Camacho. He knew the solution to his problem was her. He’d been divorced for two years and had three failed dates. His ex-wife repeatedly cheated on him with other women. She’d argued that wasn’t infidelity. Then he discovered during the court case that she’d been taking measures to not get pregnant. They hadn’t talked of having children, but she’d known he wanted a family. He guessed when it happened, it would be joyous. After that debacle, the ladies he went out with were freeloading psycho bitches or cunts. All wanting to make their lovers jealous.
Then a week ago, an email came to him. Renata must have been drafting a personal diary of sorts. She vented on how lonely she’d been feeling since she dumped her fiancee a year ago. This was after finding out he’d been having an affair with a woman while sexting her cousin concurrently.
She didn’t want to get into another relationship. Nae felt she’d become “used goods” and not worthy of someone wanting her passionately. A year was a long time, and she’d felt her virginity coming back.
She’d only been with three men in her life. Well, one boy and two men. The boy was her high school crush. He’d taken her virginity and then went down his black book Rolodex of girls to smash and run. The first man was into feet fetish and barely even fingered her, let alone do anything more. Her fiance was on the small penile size and talked about what he could do to pleasuring a woman, but he was pathetic.
Women in the office and her small circle of friends spoke endlessly of their love lives. She’d even done internet searches on porn sites and read dozens of erotica. Her solitary pleasuring faded into oblivion. But her kitten had an itch that hummed for scratching. She’d one day written her own story and her inner thoughts.
She must have accidentally sent her diary instead of company documents to Basil. She was horrified and extremely turned-on now that he knew her secret thoughts.
“What do you plan on doing?” she asked in a low voice.
“I’m going to take you out of this restaurant, drive you to my house, and see if your pussy is shaved or trimmed.”
“What about work?” How are we--“
“I already took care of that. You worry about what is in store for you.”
Dampness grew in her panties as she saw the primal dominance in his gaze. Her normal razor-sharp bullshit-odometer would go off like a fire alarm. She was born with a tiny ball of fluff with a sassy attitude. Now, with her hands above her head, back against the restaurant wall, in public view, she became his to command.