Zane Page 6

  I glance over at Scarlet, who seems to be uncomfortable with the direction the conversation is headed. As our eyes meet, she straightens up in her chair and gives me a shy grin. “I know it’s not my business,” she says, holding my gaze. “I’m just an actress, after all, but I—”

  Brad immediately cuts her off with a loud and harsh tone. “Scarlet, please stay out of it!”

  Scarlet’s jaw drops in shock, and she nods, looking utterly embarrassed. “I’m very sorry.”

  “No.” I lift my hand to stop Brad from talking. “Go ahead, Scarlet. Say what you wanted to say. We value everyone’s opinion.”

  “It’s just my personal opinion, but I used to be a big fan of Troubled Girls back when it was a big hit. Do you remember how it went downhill in the middle of the third season? I heard Henrietta became the head of the writers of the show around that time.”

  “It’s just a coincidence. The show was bound to die since they decided to kill off one of the main characters,” Brad says, now unable to hide the fury in his voice.

  “No, Scarlet is right,” Julie says. “It was actually Henrietta’s idea to kill off that character. Ask anyone you want, everyone knows she was the reason for the change in the scripts.”

  Brad shakes his head and draws in a long breath of air. “Still, it’s too risky to hire a no-name writer. Henrietta is our best bet. She’s full of great and fresh ideas for the next episodes.”

  I know a fruitless discussion when I hear it, and this is becoming one, especially because I feel a headache coming. “Rather than discussing it to death, why don’t we ask them both to come up with a general outline for the next few episodes?” I start to stand, not wanting to be in this office, much less continue the discussion.

  “I think that’s a great idea.” Julie gets to her feet quickly.

  “Wait, really?” Brad softens his voice when speaking. “I’m not sure asking Henrietta to write up the next episodes without paying her anything is a good idea.”

  “Well, if she isn’t already brewing up some ideas, she’s not good for us anyway.” I shrug and move to the door.

  Scarlet hooks the strap of her bag over her shoulder and follows me and Julie out. “I should have kept my mouth shut,” she whispers to Julie apologetically, but Julie gives her head a quick shake to encourage her participation.

  “Don’t apologize for wanting the best for the show.” I glance down at her sideways and see her cheeks flush at my words. She looks adorable, more so because she’s chewing her bottom lip mindlessly.

  Here’s a stellar example of a strong, beautiful, and industrious girl who has a goal to achieve and lets nothing else distract her along the way. She knows her place, but doesn’t shy away from pointing out the truth. And, let’s not forget about the small but significant fact that she’s not fazed by the numerous men chasing after her. If only she didn’t work for me…

  My headache intensifies despite leaving Brad’s office. “Clear my schedule for the rest of the day. I’ll work from home,” I say to Julie.

  “How about your date with Felicia? Shall I postpone it to tomorrow night?” Julie produces her phone quickly and opens up my calendar, looking ready to type in whatever I order.

  “Oh, you have a date?” Scarlet chimes in, staring at me with curious eyes. “Do I know her?”

  “No, no one knows her,” Julie answers for me. “She’s a nurse and not a famous one as far as I know. That’s kind of the point, though. Zane doesn’t need someone from the entertainment industry.”

  “Really?” Scarlet says with a hint of disappointment in her voice. It’s adorable to say the least and has me running my eyes over her tight body. Has she considered herself as a suitable partner for me? From her deepening blush, I’d say yes, which should be my clue to end my obvious ogling.

  Luckily, Julie comes to my rescue and explains to her the reasons why it’s a better idea for me to get involved with a low-key woman with a modest lifestyle, rather than a camera-crazed woman who worships nothing but diamonds and Botox. Scarlet doesn’t look satisfied with Julie’s explanation, and I don’t blame her.

  As we approach the front door of the building, Julie stops to give Scarlet a friendly hug. And to my utter astonishment, after their hug Scarlet moves from Julie and approaches me with open arms, clearly wanting to give me a hug, too. I should be a better man and just move away. Even though I’d look like a socially awkward asshole, it’s still better than the alternative scenario where I give her any kind of hope. But I don’t. I spread my arms open for her and wrap them tightly around her tiny waist. Not just that, I lift her up a little, and she gives me a surprised squeal.

  Julie grabs me by the elbow and hauls me out. As soon as we’re out of Scarlet’s hearing range, Julie starts her lecture. “That was totally unprofessional, in case you haven’t noticed. She’s only twenty-two and very likely a virgin. She idolizes you. Don’t screw with her mind. It won’t do any good for anyone.”

  “I just couldn’t help myself.”

  “Even your excuse is repulsive. Get yourself together. Save your dirty thoughts for the woman who’ll be your wife.”

  “I find myself wishing it was Scarlet.”

  “You’re not serious.”

  “I’m not. She’s just too sexy for me to ignore. That’s all there is to it.” And very sweet, but I’ll keep that to myself. “I’ll stay away from her. I love Hawkins Media Group way too much to ruin its most successful show.”

  CH 7 - The Church Girl

  ~

  “I’ll have mushroom gnocchi and Greek salad, please.” Felicia hands the waiter the menu and reaches for her glass of ginger ale. Yep, she doesn’t drink alcohol, doesn’t even know the taste since she has never even felt inclined to try an alcoholic drink.

  “I’ll have the same.” I smile at her when she glances at me with a surprised look.

  “Now I feel guilty for not ordering the roast duck.”

  “Don’t. I’m vegetarian.”

  “Really?” Her eyes travel down my chest as if she’ll find a confirmation there for or against my declaration. “I never pegged you for a vegetarian.”

  “And you won’t be the first one. It’s okay, though. I’ve never felt comfortable eating meat. How about you?”

  “I love chicken, but that’s about it.” She grins and sets her glass of ginger ale beside her empty plate. “Um. I’m surprised you replied to my message. I mean, you and I are from different worlds. You must be surrounded by beautiful women, whereas I’m an average girl with an average job.”

  Surrounded doesn’t even begin to cover it. Drowning in, or suffocated by, fits the bill better. But, with her full chest, lean waistline, and long brown hair, she’s far from being an average girl. Add her large chocolate-brown eyes and luscious lips to the mix, she’s easily an eight. And all that without makeup. She definitely fulfills the requirements in the looks department.

  I shake my head playfully and lean closer to the table to whisper to her the truth, “I see what I see, and there’s nothing average about it. You’re beautiful, absolutely gorgeous.”

  She grins, slightly pushing her shoulders forward, and lowering her eyes to the table in slight embarrassment. “Thank you.”

  Finally, a woman who accepts a compliment without feeling guilty…makes me want to praise her even more. “So, what made you decide to become a nurse?”

  She licks her bottom lip and slowly lifts her gaze at me, hesitating to look me in the eye. So different than the women I’m familiar with, the kind who would shamelessly seduce every eligible man. “I just loved the idea of saving lives. My parents didn’t have the money for med school for me to become a doctor, and I certainly didn’t have the patience. I couldn’t be happier with my job. I love taking care of sick children and assuring their parents that their kids are well taken care of. There’s no better feeling in the world for me than the feeling of caring for children.”

  “That’s admirable.” Is it naughty of me to imagine her in a slu
tty nurse costume? It won’t be a costume in her case, though, since she’s a real nurse. “Do you have any hobbies?”

  “Not really. I mean, I help out at the food shelter most of my down time. Also, I read for the blind members of my community at the local library. They’re wonderful people, and I feel honored to have the chance to serve to them.”

  Have I mistakenly taken Mother Teresa out on a date? As gorgeous as this girl might be, her generosity is humbling and makes me want to get to know her better. “You’re great. I wish I had the time to help out people in need.” My wickedness probably comes through with my fake wish, but I’m not a hopeless case. Everyone, even I, has a good side inside them, and this girl might just be the right one to help me become my better self.

  “You don’t have to be present to help. Keeping the poor and disadvantaged people in your prayers will always do wonders.”

  Fortunately, our orders arrive before tears start to pool in my eyes for the magnitude of goodness Felicia has in her heart. We dive into the delicious food, while exchanging little tidbits about our lives and personalities. She talks about her one and only hobby, riding horses, and the entire time she talks about it, I find myself visualizing her riding me cowgirl style.

  But, according to Julie, I’m not even allowed to kiss her on our first date, much less let her ride me. And, I don’t think Felicia would be onboard with having any sexual contact before marriage anyway. I’ll have to find a way to convince her to allow me a test drive before getting myself into a life-long commitment. All a matter of time, though. For now, I enjoy her beautiful smile and the occasional display of the top of her boobs along with a cheerful conversation.

  She admires the leather seats of my limousine as Daney drives us to her home after the dinner. “This is a beautiful car. Do you have other cars?”

  “Yeah, several. I’m afraid I don’t know how many.”

  “Oh.” She tilts her head to the side with a slightly disapproving look on her face. “It’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with indulging yourself in nice things, as long as you donate a good portion of your fortune to the less fortunate.”

  “Yeah, I donate a lot.” To decrease my taxable income, but it’s money given to the poor, nonetheless. Does it matter the motivation behind it? “I donated ten thousand dollars just last month for the ovarian cancer cause.”

  My words light up her eyes and she gives me a long look of marvel. “You’re a wonderful man.” Her words are like honey, and I can’t help but smile in pride. She might just have found a way to turn me into a money-giving machine.

  “Here we are, ma’am,” Daney calls out from his seat and stops the car before a three-story apartment building on Fairfax Avenue.

  “Thank you very much. I really appreciate it.” Felicia smiles at Daney, although his back is turned to her, then she faces me. “Would you like to come up for a cup of coffee? I have a few booklets I’d like to share with you in case you’re looking to widen your portfolio of charitable causes.”

  “I would be honored to hear your suggestions,” I say, probably way too eagerly, but there’s something about her that makes me want to donate half my inheritance to appease her. “Daney, would you mind waiting for me for a few minutes?”

  “No, sir.” Daney glances up at me from the rearview, looking confused about my unusual kindness. I clear my throat and climb out of the car, while Daney hurries out to get Felicia’s door.

  Perhaps unaccustomed to having men opening doors for her, she eagerly thanks Daney and slips her arm through mine as we walk toward the building she lives in. It’s an old, three-story building with probably six or seven units, and she lives on the first floor in a one-bedroom apartment.

  I hand her my coat and stroll into the cozily decorated living room, which has flowers left and right, mostly orchids. As she disappears into the kitchen to get the coffee machine going, I settle on the blue loveseat and pick up the book lying on the coffee table.

  The History of Religion, says the title. I skim through the table of contents while occasionally glancing at the tall bookcase across from me. It’s filled with books, probably a hundred of them. The urge to call Julie to congratulate her for setting me up with a perfect blind date overwhelms me, and I almost pull my phone out of the pocket of my dress pants to send her a text, but Felicia shows up, carrying a tray with two cups of coffee.

  I stand to take the tray out of her hands and lay it on the coffee table, beside the religion book. “Your library is impressive. You didn’t tell me you loved reading.”

  “I love reading with a passion.” She smiles, blushing as if she’s confessed something embarrassing, although there’s nothing wrong about a woman who reads. It shows how smart she is and that’s sexy.

  “This one looks interesting.” I point out the religion book and lift a cup of coffee.

  “It’s a wonderful book with lots of insights about other religions. I’m a devout Catholic myself, but I find other religions fascinating as well. Did you know Hell doesn’t exist according to Judaism, and Sufi believers are called fuqara, which means poor?”

  I don’t think I’ve ever heard of the word Sufi before. So, I just raise my eyebrows to show her how interesting I find the little facts she’s shared with me.

  She gives me yet another apologetic glance. “I’m boring you, aren’t I?” She purses her lips, peeking up at me through her thick, long lashes.

  “Absolutely not!” I start to say, but she cuts me off by pressing her index finger against my lips. I wasn’t expecting any physical contact, much less such an intimate move. She’s definitely full of surprises and knows how to get under my skin.

  We stare at each other for long moments, without either of us attempting to make a move, then she shifts on the couch to get closer to me and locks her eyes with mine, catching me off-guard when our faces are only an inch apart.

  Her skin is flawless even from up-close and her scent wafts to me in sweet waves. Chewing her bottom lip, she pulls her finger from my lips down my jaw, her touch turning on my male instincts in an instant. All her sweet qualities fade away in the background of her shining beauty and silky skin, and an acute impulse to infiltrate her and make her mine takes over.

  I should be a better man and fight against it. She doesn’t know what she’s causing with her close proximity. She’s pure. I should respect her and not push matters.

  She comes closer despite my best efforts and brushes her lips against mine, softly, sweetly, taking her time to taste every curve of my lips. Her eyes close, while I keep mine open to admire her charms, as we probe each other’s lips. She tastes like the chocolate mousse we ate for dessert, making me want to devour the depths of her mouth.

  Her hands push against my chest, and I make sure to flex my muscles beneath my shirt to give her a hint of my hard body. She moans softly into my mouth and pushes her body closer, molding it into mine.

  This is a sweet make-out session, I keep telling my mind, that’s ordering me to pin her down and have my way with her. Her pussy must be in desperate need of the special care my able mouth and fingers could provide, not to mention my hardening cock, but I shouldn’t let my urges get the better of me. I should respect her limits. We’re only testing our physical attraction and chemistry. I shouldn’t read too much into it. She’ll run for the hills if I try and show her my physical needs on our first date.

  Her hands on my torso move south. My breathing becomes shorter, my cock thick and raging, despite my best efforts to keep my body in check. She’s very likely not familiar with the male libido, much less mine. Otherwise, she’d know how quickly the touch of her hands can turn me into a sexual beast.

  Or, maybe this is the religious girl’s game. Seducing but not having sex until she’s sure of her place in my life. I must say, it’s working. I’ll not be able to get her out of my mind tonight, or any of the following nights, until I bury my cock inside her. The idea of not being able to fuck her tonight turns me on and has my cock throbbing painfully.
<
br />   Her hand lowers even more and she hooks her fingers around the waistband of my pants, her lips continuing their sweet massage on mine. But, to my astonishment, she reaches for the button of my pants, undoes it, and then unzips my pants.

  What’s she up to? If she so much as touches my cock, I won’t be able to leave her alone. I’ll need supernatural powers to be able to get out of her home without touching her.

  Despite the slow strokes of her lips against mine, her hands are uncomfortably quick and slip beneath my boxers; and before I know it, she’s palming my cock. Everything stops moving at that point, the entire evening turning upside down.

  What she’s doing with her hands tightly around my cock isn’t seduction any more , it’s sex, no matter how you look at it. As if that wasn’t shocking enough, she pulls her mouth away from my face and quickly moves down to my crotch, closing her moist lips around my cock. Not that I’d ever decline a sexy woman wanting to go down on me, but her eagerness is a complete surprise. I’m getting a blowjob from practically a stranger without even having to ask for it.

  She takes my cock deeper into her wet, hot mouth, sucking its head with enthusiasm, while I lean back against the back of the couch and throw my head back, my eyes closed, my limbs relaxed, my entire blood supply pooled between my legs. She’s very talented at what she’s doing and has me coming all over her mouth within minutes, and swallows every drop of it eagerly.

  “That was amazing,” I mutter, looking down at her through my hooded eyes. “The entire evening was great. Thank you.”

  Grinning in satisfaction, she wipes her swollen lips with the back of her hand. “You’re welcome.”

  The easy way the words come out of her mouth makes me wonder how many other men have enjoyed her mouth. The thought instantly destroys all the attraction that’s been growing in me for her. “This was lovely, but it’s getting late. I have an early meeting tomorrow.” I get to my feet and get my coat from the small closet by the door.