A Certain Heir

By Manhattanite

Romance / Humor

Trust Me

Trust Me
Helena slowly navigated the space to the bed, all the time moving Myka with her. Helena prided herself on reading people's body expressions and as she watched Myka, she saw the conflict. Helena decided she would concentrate on the part of Myka that wanted this. She put her hands on Myka's forearms and let them glide down her skin. She took Myka's left hand and brought it up to her mouth. If Helena was going to tip the scales in her favor, she knew Myka needed to touch her.

Myka's body was moving in tandem. Her resistance was dwindling by the moment and thoughts were getting cloudy. She felt herself sitting, and then lying on the bed. Helena lowered her mouth onto Myka's lips.

Helena didn't realize it - because she was too busy watching Myka, but her body was reacting as well. Her breathing was shallow, her eyes were wide with intent, and the touch of Myka was pushing her over the edge. She couldn't remember the last time she kissed someone with such tenderness, such wanting.

For Helena, sex was power. She seduced her lovers and always controlled the action. No matter how many she took, no matter how hot the sex was – no matter how satisfying they were, Helena always left with the void she was desperate to fill. She thought it was a side effect of being bronzed all those years, and spent endless hours in the lab trying to discover what was physically wrong with her. Multiple tests showed, in spite of her immobility, she was healthy and in good shape.

Helena was too much the scientist to believe that what she needed was an intangible – something that could not be measured in numbers.

Helena leaned over Myka, allowing her hand to graze her thigh and slowly trace upward. Muscles contracted in anticipation of the hallowed moment when Helena's hand would invade her further. Myka gasped and Helena caught it with her mouth, allowing her tongue to probe deeply. Myka could feel her heart pounding in her chest and she wasn't sure if it was thumping out of excitement or fear. She never wanted anything so much in all her life.

Helena slid her tongue over Myka's ear and whispered – "Trust me, Myka,' – and Helena meant it. She wanted to give Myka what her entire body was screaming for.

That phrase shot through Myka's ear.

'Trust me, Myka. No one is talking about it,' Tracy lied after she was left at the dance. In fact, everyone was laughing about it on Monday. 'Trust me, sweetie, you don't want Sam to get away,' her mother warned her. She knew her mother meant this was the best she would ever do. 'Trust me, Myka, Bering & Sons sounds better for a business,' her father tried to convince her. Who names their business after phantom children? 'Trust me, Bunny,' Sam had said to Myka countless times. And she did, even when it wasn't in her favor.

She was done trusting everyone else and not herself.

In spite of never having felt like this in her life, she knew it was wrong. Helena was her boss, she didn't even know Myka, and mostly – Myka wasn't a pawn. She saw that video of Helena. Helena left crushed hearts in her wake and didn't look back.

She reached for Helena's hand and held it, then whispered; "I can't."

This was a fight Helena believed she could have easily pursued and won, but there was something in Myka's tone that stopped her. For the first time, Helena decided this was not a person she wanted to conquer. However, that also meant Helena was allowing someone to reject her – and that didn't go over well.

"Can't or won't?" Helena asked because she was slowly sinking into hurt.

"Helena, this is wrong and you know it," Myka said and didn't believe that was the right word, but she couldn't find the right one.

Rejecting and being told what she thought? Helena started to seethe. She wanted Myka, had set her sights on her the moment she met her and now she was slipping through her grasp. Helena did not take losing well. She took a deep breath, got up from the bed, and walked towards the door, never looking back. The softness and tenderness that Myka felt moments before was replaced by the sharpness of her tone.

"Don't ever tell me what I know, Ms. Bering. In the bedroom or otherwise," Helena said before closing the door behind her.

"Oh shit!" Myka thought. "Now she really does have a reason to fire me."

Suddenly, Myka was uncomfortable in her surroundings and in her own skin. She didn't really know where she was, where her phone was or even where her clothes were. Or where her boss was.

Myka put her plan together. She would get dressed, go downstairs, and apologize to Helena. Thank her for her hospitality and tell her the she understood if they could no longer work together. After all, she had already screwed up the first two assignments. Myka pulled herself together and went to find Helena.

"Hey Ms. Bering," Pete said from the front hallway. He was holding Myka's dress that had been cleaned. As if reading her mind, he presented a small bag which contained her undergarments. "All done," he smiled.

"Where is….." she started, but Pete was a step ahead.

"Ms. Wells? She left for the office," he said and Myka could tell he knew something.

"Pete?" Myka prompted him, suddenly becoming less embarrassed at talking to him dressed in a robe.

"She's on the warpath. What happened here?" he said looking around for any sign that would tell him. Given his boss' mood, he expected to see things thrown all over the place.

"I …don't know," Myka lied. "Do you know where my boyfriend is?"

"Oh, Sam the Man? Yeah, he spent the night throwing up at the hotel and then took the early flight back this morning. He texted you like a zillion times," Pete said. He knew because he had been instructed to make sure Sam returned home.

"You drove him? That was very nice of you," Myka said.

"Not like I had a choice," Pete slipped, but Myka caught it.

"She told you to take him?" Myka asked.

"Well, she didn't … you know….she was worried…..he was sick," Pete tried to backtrack.

"She wanted to make sure he wasn't here!" Myka surmised and grew angry. The more she thought about it, the more she realized how natural Helena had acted – as if it had all been planned out.

"She set me up!" Myka yelled realizing she had been taken here while her boyfriend was driven to his hotel room. Then she made sure Sam was on his way back so she would have time to seduce her!

"She thinks she can get away with this?" Myka asked and Pete thought she meant tell him what to do.

"Yeah, pretty much," he confirmed.

"Well not with me she can't," Myka said, grabbing her clothes and then apologizing for being rude. Pete just stared at her. Myka mumbled all the way back upstairs where she got dressed.

"Can you take me to work, Pete?" she asked when she came back down.

"That's why I'm here," he said and was sorry he did.

"Oh of course. She sent you to collect me, the crazy bitch!" Myka said and then apologized for cursing.

"You apologize a lot," Pete said as he walked her to the car.

Myka was about to say she was sorry for that, but caught herself in time. She realized her phone was beeping and she retrieved it from her bag. Six phone calls missed and ten texts – all from Sam, mostly asking if she was okay.

"Thank your boss for me," the last one read. "She was so nice."

"You damn fool," Myka started to type, but stopped. "Yeah, a real peach," she finally typed. "Are you ok?"

Sam texted back immediately. "Yes fine. That was some wine last night! Where have you been?"

"Busy with work," Myka lied. "I'll call you later."

The wine, the arriving late, the threat to fire her, then separating her from Sam and taking her to the townhouse. It was all the pieces of a plan – and the more she saw them fit together, the angrier she got.

Her phone beeped one more time. She thought it was Sam, but it was Walter Sykes texting her – asking her if she spoke to Helena and did she convince her to give him a second chance? She remembered how desperate he was – he just wanted a second chance.

That was something she was going to make sure Helena Wells didn't get. Myka called Helena's secretary.

"Eileen, this is Myka Bering. I want you to muster up all of your nerve, get up from your desk, and deliver this message to her in person for me. Tell Ms. Wells I am on my way to her office and she better be there. Tell her…are you writing this down? Good. Eileen, tell Ms. Wells …. She just ran out of chances," Myka said and cut the call off.


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