Forbidden Echoes

Chapter 3: A Clandestine Rendezvous

“Lock the door behind you.” I say, drawing the thick burgundy curtains that stretch from the high ceiling to the mahogany countertops in my father’s office.

Swept up in grief and passion, I turn to face Alex and rush to meet his equally eagerly excited lips. His hands melt around my neck as his kisses grow more and more hungry.

“I forgot how good we are at this!” he exclaims between kisses.

It’s like he can read my mind!

“Shut up and remind me just how good we are!” I grab him at the collar of his shirt, pulling him into me. In a split second, he hoists me up against him, folding my legs behind his back. I straddle him and unwillingly exclaim “f**k me!”

“Your wish is my command”, he murmurs in my neck.

In two quick strides, he plants me on my father's desk, and if this were any other day with any other person, I wouldn’t even dare do this, on this desk, on this day. But this isn’t someone else, and this isn’t our first rodeo on my father’s desk. Alex always did say that there was an insurmountable feeling of power, staring out over the capacious mahogany-furnished office from behind that desk.

He pauses from the hungry kisses he’s been planting all along my collar bone. His eyes graze over my shoulder with that mischievous look in his eyes, “Ha, I forgot what a power trip this is!” He says, guiding his eyes back to mine, planting his perfect smile on my eager mouth.

He inhales my breath as the passion swirls around between our tongues, undoing years of being apart. His hand travels down my neck, over my breast, gently landing on the crease of my hip.

“Are you okay?” he asks. He’s always been such a gentleman when it came to this.

Why did we break up again?

“Yeah!” I say, hungrily undoing the black leather belt I wish he’d punish me with right now.

In one swift movement, I pull down his pants whilst his hand slips under my dress and moves my panties to the side. His fingers gently graze across where my very wet panties used to be.

“Oh my god, S. You’re so f*****g wet!”

His words send me over the edge and I curl at the thought of the impending pleasure, arching my back.

“Do you have anything on you?” he asks me.

I’m whiplashed back to reality for a heated second.

“Wait, you don’t have anything with you? Isn’t it the guy’s job to have this kind of stuff?”

“Well, it’s not common practice to carry one with me when I’m at a funeral,” we both giggle, “but let me check my wallet.”

He steps to the side, searching his pockets when I notice the slight crevice between the stone fireplace and massive bookshelf.

Wait, that thing can move? There’s no way that thing can move.

I scoot off the desk to get a closer look of the mysterious darkness coming from the crevice.

“Got it!” Alex says, pulling me back to him.

Hungry for solace, his lips part mine, making a pathway for our tongues to intertwine once more. He presses me forward, leading me to the aged leather couch against the left wall of the office.

I lose all sense of time and space, escaping this sad day to a world where my senses come alive and, for a moment, I forget about all the horrible things. For a moment, I’m engulfed by the magic that’s about to happen.

His hands wander over my body and the vintage Chanel dress, now a symbol of both mourning and desire, makes its way to the floor.

I slip his blazer off and undo the buttons to his shirt. I slide my hand over his back, grabbing a fistfull of his shirt when he presses against me, making his arousal known.

He pushes me to the couch, landing between my legs as he swiftly unhooks my bra.

He was really good at that too.

He tosses my bra to the side, and brushes his thumb over my breast. He leans down and gently sucks on me as his hand slides down the side of my body, removing my panties. He removes my panties from my ankles, tossing them towards the wall as his lips meet mine again. I can feel him hovering right in front of me, the tip grazing me where I’m sure I’m dripping by now.

I gently drag my nails down his back to his but, where I open my hand, ready to help him thrust into me, over and ov-

A sudden, assured knock interrupts us.

“f**k” he says as he jumps up, rapidly searching for his clothes.

“Who would come up here?”

“I don’t know!?”

“Do you think we should answer or ignore it?”

I put my bra on, frantically pulling the delicate dress over my head, “Well I can’t exactly put a sock on the door, Alex. Get dresses. My god, where are my panties?”

“I’ll help you in a sec, let me jus-”

“No, just get dressed and fix what’s going on at the desk!” I say, still frantically searching for the soaked, black lace panties Alex threw across the room.

He’s dressed, and the desk fixed when another knock echoes through the room.

“Serena? You in here?” A deep voice comes from the other side of the door.

“Coming!”

That sounds like a mature voice.

“What should I do S?”

“Just follow my lead and pretend like you were consoling me.” I say, ironing out the imperfections in my dress, hoping that nobody will notice that I’m not wearing underwear.

I make my way to the door, turning the knob. As the door swings open, Alex puts his hand on my back and says “Please let me know if there’s anything else we can do to support you during this time, S”. He plants a kiss on the side of my head, turning toward Ethan, and his demeanor suddenly changes. His face turns hard, his shoulders broaden and with an icy look he nods, “Ethan.”

“Mr. Sinclair is fine.” Ethan returns with an even colder look, piercing from his ice-blue eyes. The passion-charged air is suddenly replaced with the faint scent of hatred.

What happened here?

“Not a child anymore, Ethan. Time you accept that.” Alex says, brushing past Ethan’s broad shoulders filling the doorframe.

Despite the ice in his eyes, Ethan looks rather unbothered. As if this display of toxic masculinity is just another day at the office.

“Call if you need me S.” Alex says from behind Ethan. I shoot him a quick smile, returning my eyes to the 6ft tall man with salt and pepper hair.

He looks really good in that suit.

Oh my god Serena. I need to get a grip. Alex got me all charged up, and now I’m in dire need of relieving this tension. I still feel wet, so I squeeze my thighs together, hoping that Ethan doesn’t smell the events that almost transpired in this room.

He stares down at me, his chiseled jawline and flawless olive skin unforgiving of my situation.

“May I come in?” he asks.

Can this man just lose his manners because if he’s going to be all gentleman-y, I’m not going to be okay!

“Sure.” I say, stepping to the side, so he can enter the room. He walks over to the leather couch and as he gently sits down, I spot my panties slightly behind the top of the back cushion.

Fuck.