I left work early and came back to my house to spend some time alone. The day had been rough because I couldn’t get Beverley out of my mind. I drove with the top down on my convertible and tried to breathe in some fresh air into my lungs. Nothing was helping. I turned the music up and then down and I still couldn’t think straight. All I could think about was how hot the sex with Beverley was and how abruptly it ended. She had thanked me for my business offer when I left the bar, but that was it. She couldn’t care less that we had the most explosive sex of our lives together. Or at least, that what it was for me.
When I went looking for her at her office and then at the bar, my intention had been to talk to her. I knew she was having a hard time selling the company and I didn’t want her to suffer because of it. I also wanted to try my luck in convincing her to come work with me. But, I’d failed on both those accounts. Instead, I had managed to completely loose control and we ended up having sex.
Sex with Beverley was something I fantasized about since college. My preoccupation with Beverley, was something I blamed on my lust for her. So, technically, sleeping with her should have solved that problem for me. As she said, it was done now and we could both move on. But it didn’t seem like I could move on. I had never thought about a woman after having sex with her. This was a first for me and I didn’t know how to deal with it.
Back in my house, I paced around my den. I was still in my clothes from the day, conscious of the smell of Beverley on the fabric, or I could have just been imagining it. Either way, I couldn’t stop wondering what it would have felt like to sleep with her in my house, on my bed, so that we could talk after.
What was happening to me? I felt like I was going insane. Usually, once the job was done and I’d slept with a woman, what I wanted most to put some distance between us. And now, after Beverley, all I could think about was having her again.
I was mad at her, angry at me. I could still her voice ringing in my head. “It’s done now, we can finally move on.” I’d seen the rage in her eyes. She hated me, despised me more now that we had actually done the deed. It was almost like she had slept with me just to punish me. I was sure that she wanted to have nothing to do with me after. Whatever dreams I had of us working together as a team, were now ruined.
With my mind in confusion and my temper rising, I took out my phone and called the lawyer.
“How is the transaction going?” I said into the phone. I must have sounded pissed off, because he started explaining the process to me immediately, almost nervously.
“I don’t care how it’s being done. How much longer till I have full possession of Wade Co?” I barked into the phone.
“We’re waiting for signed papers and a confirmation. A week maximum? We’ll try and speed up the process,” he said and I cut the call. I wasn’t in the mood for small talk.
I clenched my jaw as I flung the phone away from me and it landed on the floor. I saw the screen crack and I turned away from it. I could get a new phone, I thought.
In a week I would own Beverley’s company. I would have won the game and we wouldn’t have to see each other again, just like she wanted.
I wasn’t sure why I was so angry suddenly, when sleeping with Beverley had occupied my mind since I first met her in college. I had been so close to asking her out, several times. But I had peer pressure to back me into a corner. I was expected to date cheerleaders and sorority girls and Beverley Wade had the reputation of being a nerdy prude in my circles.
Besides, wasn’t it obvious now that she always hated me? She despised my popularity, the fact that I played a sport and also that I managed to be her academic equal. She had probably never even been attracted to me. She had definitely shown no signs of having any desires to even be associated with me. Who was I kidding? It was probably for the best that I’d never asked her out. She would only have turned me down.
I tried to steady my nerves. It was over. The maddening yearning I felt for her since the previous night when she came to my house…was done. I got what I wanted, including her company, why did I care any more?
I switched on the big screen television in the den and sat down on my couch, hoping that I could distract myself. Within a few minutes I switched it off again, because even though my eyes were open, I was only thinking of her. Beverley against the toilet wall, her legs wrapped around me, how green her eyes were and how her nails had dug into my shoulders as she came.
I wanted her again. I wanted more than just a quick fuck in the toilet of a dingy bar. I wasn’t quite sure what I wanted, but I wanted something else.
For now, I tried to remind myself that I was going to own her company. If she was so resistant to my good intentions then I wasn’t going to force her any more. She’d get exactly what she wanted.
Chapter 17
Beverley
In my apartment, I couldn’t sleep at night, but I’d decided to stay away from alcohol. As tempting as that prospect was. I
had changed from my day clothes into a pair of old pajamas and tucked myself into bed earlier than usual. I wanted to feel the comforting warmth of the covers around me, the familiarity of the pillow under my head. But I still couldn’t sleep.
Whatever effects of the hangover I was suffering from in the morning, were gone the moment Grant found me at the bar. Like I told him, I hadn’t been drinking but I just wanted to enjoy the quiet of the bar and its dark confines. But I’d seen the look of worry in his eyes when he pulled me off my stool. Worry was the last expression I had expected to find on Grant’s face. Self sufficiency, confidence and being smug were the ones I thought he was used to.
Then he’d dragged me to the toilet and we’d had sex, loudly and ferociously; like our lives depended on it.
How long had I fantasized about sex with Grant? Since college. Since the first day I saw him in class. He was the hottest guy on campus and everyone had a crush on him. He had the unique allure of being smart and handsome at the same time, and I’d always known that I didn’t stand a chance. The worst part was that he was always also polite and nice. I hated him for it. I hated how perfect I believed he was and how much I wanted him. I wished he was mean to me, I wished he wasn’t always so charming.
I took out all those feelings as anger and competition, when deep down inside, I harbored feelings for Grant that were yet untouched by anyone else. I’d only had one real boyfriend, a guy I met in San Fransisco a couple of months after I moved here. We dated for six months and then I broke up with him when he asked if he could move in with me. I didn’t want to take it to the next level, because I knew he was just a decoy. To keep my brain distracted from thinking about Grant.
I knew Grant had moved to San Fransisco as well, that he too had started his own start-up and I wanted to do everything in my power to stay away from him. After that guy, there were a few one night stands but nothing serious. I told myself, and my family, that I was just busy and that I worked too hard and had no time for a relationship. When the whole time, all I did was compare other guys to Grant. To a guy I hadn’t even seen in person for several years.
And now we’d had sex. I should have been feeling great that my wildest fantasy had finally come true, but I didn’t. Instead, I was lying in my bed and cursing myself for having been so weak. The anger I’d felt towards Grant was quickly diminishing. I wanted to be in his arms, I wanted more than just sex with him.
I wasn’t entirely naive; I knew very well that Grant wasn’t that kinda guy. He never had been in college and if I was to believe his reputation in Silicon Valley, he was a serial dater instead of a committed monogamist.
And yet, I couldn’t help but harbor hopeful feelings. I’d seen the hurt look he threw at me when I dismissed him after sex. He looked like he had something more to say, that he would have liked to sit down and talk with me after. But I’d ruined the moment, as a defense mechanism. I’d tried to act casual and disinterested just so that he wouldn’t have the opportunity to turn me down.