Chapter 50: Chapter 50: Distractions and the Office Couch
Ethan was slouched in one of the sleek, uncomfortable chairs in the Imperium Style waiting area. He was watching the minutes tick by, his mind preoccupied with Vincent Halbert and the hidden documents.
[Why the hell don’t you just screw that manager?] the System’s voice was a loud, exasperated whisper in his head. [She practically came up and shoved her vagina in your face to be licked, and you’re still sitting there doubting yourself!]
"I know she’s easy money," Ethan mentally shot back. "But something about her bugs me. My gut screams not to go near her. I feel something weird."
[You’re just a goddamn coward, loser!]
Ethan ignored the System. He kept watching the door, waiting for Jason. That’s when Emily appeared. Someone must have run to tell her Ethan was there, and she’d rushed to confirm it. Seeing him sitting alone, her heart hammered against her ribs at a thousand beats per minute.
She crept up behind him while he was distracted, covering his eyes with her hands. "Guess who?" she whispered, her breath sweet and fresh against his ear, smelling faintly of the salon’s high-end shampoo.
Ethan chuckled, recognizing the scent and the warm feel of her hands. He reached back, his fingers first brushing her soft hair, then deliberately tracing down to cup her breasts, and finally moving lower, gripping her firm ass.
Emily pressed her lips together to stifle a moan or any noise of complaint, but Ethan didn’t stop fondling her. "I don’t know," he murmured, his voice playful. "Let me explore a little more... maybe I can figure it out."
Realizing Ethan was just teasing, she pulled her hands away and moved around to face him. Before he could speak, her lips smashed against his. The kiss was deep, intense. Their tongues tangled in a passionate dance inside each other’s mouths. Emily cupped his face, holding him fiercely. The simple contact made her gasp, her panties immediately soaking. She was more than ready to be fucked right there.
When they finally separated, a thin strand of saliva connected them momentarily. Ethan pulled her close, settling her onto his lap, resting her head on his chest, and gently stroking her back like a small child.
"How have you been?" he asked softly. "Miss me?"
"So much," she whispered back, leaning into his warmth. "I waited for your call, but you never did."
Ethan looked down at her. "I’ve been busy these last few days. I apologize for that."
Emily looked up, her eyes hopeful. "To forgive you, how about we grab dinner or lunch tomorrow?"
Ethan scratched the back of his neck, regret washing over him. "Don’t think I don’t want to be with you, Em. But I came here with a friend—Jason. Haven’t seen him in a while, and I need to help him with a really special situation right now." He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "How about I call you in the next day or so? Promise I won’t take so long this time."
She laughed, the tension easing. "It’s okay. No pressure. I’ll be waiting. I need to get back to work."
She stood up and walked away. Ethan felt a pang of guilt but didn’t stop her. His focus had to stay sharp; he needed to wait for Jason and deal with the fallout of his parents’ murder.
Time passed. A bit too much time, actually.
Brooke, the manager, approached Ethan, her smile perfectly polished. "Your friend is making Jessica moan quite loudly," she said, a coy smirk playing on her lips. "I don’t know how long he’ll be."
[See? Everyone’s getting laid but you, idiot!] the System screamed.
Ethan nodded calmly, looking up at Brooke. "It’s fine. I’ll wait."
"I have a much more comfortable couch in my office," she suggested, leaning in conspiratorially. "Wouldn’t you like to try it?"
[She is practically tearing her pussy open for you! If you don’t go, it makes no sense!]
Ethan sighed internally. He had an hour to kill, and Brooke wasn’t going to leave him alone. He stood up. "Sure. Lead the way. Let’s see that couch."
They walked together. As they entered, Brooke closed the door behind them, her smile widening into a predatory grin. "I thought you didn’t like me," she confessed, her voice suddenly vulnerable. "I felt a little ugly, actually. I’ve been trying to get your attention all this time, and you just kept rejecting me."
Ethan stepped closer. "It’s not that, Brooke. I’ve just had a lot on my mind." He offered a formal apology for the misunderstanding.
She met his eyes, that predatory look returning. "I’ll forgive you... if you attend to me for a while."
She met his eyes, that predatory look returning. "I’ll forgive you... if you attend to me for a while."
Ethan returned her predatory smile with one of his own—a smooth, dangerous curve of his lips. "And how exactly would you like to be attended to, Brooke?" he purred, taking a step closer. "Should we start with some champagne? Wine? Or maybe just jump straight to dessert?"
Brooke’s chest heaved, excitement replacing her facade of offense. "Wine sounds... sophisticated," she breathed, her voice dropping to a low purr. She walked over to a small mahogany cabinet and opened it, revealing a hidden mini-bar stocked with expensive bottles. "I have a ninety-five point Merlot that is perfect for celebrating your return. Or maybe a chilled Dom Pérignon?"
"Merlot sounds good," Ethan decided, his eyes fixed on her as she bent over. "But let’s skip the glasses."
[Oh, he’s evolving!] the System whispered excitedly. [See, idiot? This is what happens when you stop being a moral loser and start acting like a man with money and power! Enjoy the free pussy!]
Brooke raised an eyebrow, a clear challenge in her eyes, before pouring a generous amount of dark red wine into two crystal glasses. "And how do we drink it without glasses, then?" she challenged, handing him one.
Ethan took the glass, his fingers brushing hers. He took a sip, letting the strong taste coat his mouth, then leaned in, close enough that she could smell the rich wine on his breath. "Like this," he murmured, pressing his mouth against hers.
The kiss was instant and messy. Ethan tipped his head, letting the wine run from his mouth into hers. She gasped, grabbing his shirt, accepting the unexpected flood of alcohol. Their tongues met, tasting the expensive wine and the building lust.