tagRomanceCompetition

Competition

byfgmntfmgnshn©

As always:

Thanks to Boheminxen for editing. Without you correcting my awful grammar, this would be mindless drivel.







"That insufferable bitch!" Frank pounded a fist into his desk.

"Relax." Walt slumped into the black leather chair across from Frank. "After all, Susan is going for the same executive position on the board of directors as you are."

"So are you, but I don't see you acting like a child who got their favorite pacifier taken away." Frank ran a hand through his hair while he shook his head. "I mean every idea I had, she fucking shot it down with a flair for the dramatic."

"Maybe she's just reacting to you?" Walt countered. "You did the same to her."

"She started it from the very first moment she transferred here. And besides, whose side are you on, Walt? Don't tell me you fell victim to her looks and charm, as well. That's probably the only reason she is up for the promotion -- screwed everyone to get to the top."

"I'm on your side, Frank." Walt tried to quell his colleague's temper. "I'm just trying to say you haven't been so approachable to her ideas as well."

"Because her ideas will bury this company in red ink until we would be forced to lock the doors and all of us will be out on our asses. But if she can get Mr. Prill, a man I worked with for years to question my presentation, what do you think she'll get board of directors to say Monday?"



"Well, I see there is no getting through to you while you're in this mood." Walt started to leave but stopped at the door. "Want to get drinks after work?"

"Yeah," Frank muttered. "Wait, I can't tonight. I have to change half of my presentation because of her. I'll be here all night."

"Well, I'll be at Fubar Tavern if you change your mind." Walt patted the doorjamb before taking his leave.

Frank sat at his desk looking over his now worthless presentation. "I hate that fucking cunt," he growled through gritted teeth. "I bet she's in her office right now, laughing her ass off at my expense."

#

"What a royal fucking asshole!" Susan barked as she slammed her office door. She began going over her notes preparing for the long evening.

Carol, Susan's secretary, sighed as she reached for the door to her boss's office. She turned the handle with much trepidation and entered, her two feet stopping just inside the door. "Ms. Lewis, is everything okay?" It was a question she already knew the answer to.

"I'm fine -- I'm just have to change a perfect presentation because of that dick, Frank, has the ear of the upper brass."

"Do you need me to stay and help?" Carol bit her lip, hoping not.

"No, go ahead," Susan replied as her head fell back and a deep breath ensued. "Enjoy the weekend."



"Good luck, then." Carol rushed out of the office, not wanting to be called back in if her boss suddenly changed her mind.

Susan went back to her work. "What an asshole," she stammered. "I bet he is in his office right now celebrating the torture he put me through."

#

The hours passed, and the bustling metropolis known as Pemrose Corporation turned into a ghost town as the highest of executives to the lowest of janitors trickled out the doors to start their weekends.

With the sunset long gone, Frank finally peeled his eyes from his research to glance at the clock on his wall. He shook his head at the realization that it was almost ten at night, and he was nowhere near being prepared for the Board of Directors Monday.

Frank sighed, "It's going to be a long night."

Frank went to dive back into his work when he heard a loud banging sound. Startled for the moment, he quickly headed outside of his office and listened. When he heard it again, he deduced it came from the copy room, and it was accompanied by a female voice.

Susan kicked the oversized copier. "No!" The papers she had copied started flying past the output tray and spilling all over the floor. "Damn it!" She kicked the side of the machine again.

Frank stood in the doorway and chuckled at the sight of Susan on her hands and knees picking up the mess. Despite them being adversaries, he bent down to help collect the multitude of papers strewn across the floor.

"I don't need your help," Susan insisted as she reached under the copier to claim yet another sheet of paper.

"I see you are working late, too," Frank commented as he began mulling over the paper in his hand.

"Only because of you. Hey, what are you doing?" Susan practically ripped the paper from Frank's hand. "Trying to steal my ideas?"

"Sorry. I wasn't trying to steal anything. I just glanced down, and something caught my eye," Frank responded with the utmost sincerity.

"Yeah, right," Susan rolled her eyes.

"No, really," Frank defended himself. "I saw an error."

"What? Where?" Susan was skeptical, but felt she couldn't afford not to at least hear him out. She could always double check when she got back to her office.

"Right here." Frank pointed to the middle of the page. "That number for purchasing is wrong. It's supposed to be $32,250,926, not $32,025,926." He chastised himself silently for a moment as he realized he just helped his rival. That mistake could have cost her the promotion. He stood. "I need to get back to work."

Susan stared numbly at the paper. The mistake pulsed in her face, glaring as clear as day. Frank was right. "Thank you," she mumbled, stunned that she had first made the miscue, but also that Frank of all people would correct it.

Two steps out of the copy room, Frank stopped dead in his tracks. It was soft, but he heard it. The bane of his existence just apologized. He turned back and saw her eyes were fixated on that inaccuracy. She wasn't moving. "You're welcome. Are you all right?"

Susan came out of her catatonic state with those words and nodded. "Yeah. I just can't believe I did that. Must be because I haven't eaten yet."

Frank became conscience of his hunger, having skipped lunch to prepare for the meeting. He shook his head, shocked at what he was about to ask. "Would like to go to dinner at Giovanni's across the street? They have excellent Italian food."

"I can't. I have a lot of work." Susan frowned.

"So do I, but we both just saw what the lack of nutrition can do to our work. Besides, if you're as thorough at your job as I am, you're already resigned to the fact it's not all being done today. I know I tried." Frank held out his hand. "C'mon, my treat."

Susan pondered for a hesitant moment before taking Frank's hand. "All right, but we're going dutch."

It was a muted walk to the restaurant. Each step was masked in uneasiness as each felt like they were marching toward a firing squad. Only when they entered the establishment did a sense of comfort fall over them, grateful for the other patrons. They were sat at a quiet table in the back, away from the raucous of a wedding's rehearsal dinner.

"Ah, look at the well-dressed couple," Vito, the waiter, announced jovially with a heavy Italian accent. "Did you two just come from the opera house down the street?"

"Not a couple," Susan rejected, a sudden miffed surprise crossing her features.

"Yeah, we're work colleagues," Frank added.

"You two should be." Vito leaned into Frank and gestured to Susan. "Look at her, eh? Such an exquisite creature!" He moved to Susan and waved in Frank's direction. "And he certainly is a handsome beau, don't you think?" He smiled for a moment as he let his words sink in and then stood, his expression neutral. "What may I interest the two of you in ordering?"

After Vito left, silence ensued, each unsure of what to say. When their waiter rejoined Frank and Susan, he filled two glasses with wine. Over the course of dinner, the glasses were refilled at a steady pace. The alcohol soothed the vast, awkward silence between them and crumbled the guarded walls both had until conversation flowed. Topics came up and dismissed the previous until finally, business was at hand.

"You know, that really was a creative concept you had." Frank tipped his glass in Susan's direction with a thoughtful smile. "From what I saw, it was a well-outlined strategy. I apologize I dismissed it so quickly at the meeting."

"Thanks. And I'm sorry for my behavior too." Susan laughed while emptying her glass. "Your theories have merit as well. It's unfortunate there's only one position available. If we merge the two ideas, we could have sent this company into another stratosphere."

"The company's profits would soar." Frank agreed and took another drink. "Do you like to dance? I know a great place not far from here."

"I'd love to." Susan smiled.

The two left the restaurant, hand in hand, and hailed a cab.

"To the Whirl Room!" Frank declared to the driver as he slipped his arm around Susan.

The night bore on as the two drank and danced, merrily losing their inhibitions. First, his tie was abandoned and soon followed by a couple buttons from her blouse. They laughed and enjoyed themselves to the fullest. By the time they were forced to leave the establishment due to the closing hour, they were already unsteady on their feet and slurring their words.

"Oh, hey, look," Susan giggled as she pointed across the street, "There's a hotel... how convenient!"

"Perfect!" Frank grabbed Susan at the waist and stumbled into the road.

Two steps into the street, a loud car horn blared and with it the sound screeching tires. Frank slapped the hood of the taxi that just barely stopped in time. "Hey, I'm walkin' here!"

Susan swung her purse at the annoying cab, and it nearly caused her to fall forward. "Yeah, and I'm trying to get laid here!"

The poor cab driver didn't even respond to the couple's outburst. His hands were clutching his chest, and he was concentrating on taking deep breaths, ever thankful he didn't run over the two inebriated pedestrians.

Frank and Susan were both holding each other up when Frank threw his credit card down in front of the receptionist behind the desk. He squinted to read her nametag. "Harriet, I want the finest room so me and," he hiccupped, "My lady can," and he gyrated his hips as he threw his arms in the air, "Get it on!"

"Yeah," Susan added with an exaggerated wag of her finger and then rubbed herself against Frank with a lopsided grin and low purr, "The sooner the better too missy."

With an amused look, Harriet swiped the card and handed the two intoxicated souls a pair of electronic key cards. "You are all set, sir. Just go to the elevator right there, and George will take you to the top floor. Enjoy your stay at the Dunesbury Hotel."

George tried to focus on the numbers of the floors they were passing instead of the heated battle of tongues that was transpiring behind him. For the first time in his forty-year career, he felt claustrophobic in the little box. With a sigh of relief, he announced the couple's floor, and the doors opened. "Your suite is the one on the left, sir."

"Thanks, guy." Frank went to hand him a tip, but the twenty dollar bill fell to the floor. When he stepped into the hallway, Susan had already opened the door to the room. "Hey, wait for me." He scrambled toward the room and could only laugh when he slammed his shoulder into the doorjamb. "Oops!"

Susan saw it and had a brief bout of hysterical giggles. "Come here, you." She grabbed him by the other arm and mashed her lips into his.

Luckily, the door was weighted, and it closed on its own as the two were simply beyond caring.

Frank reached for her blouse while Susan attacked his belt. A flurry of garments were flung left and right while the two did their best to stay conjoined at the lips. Finally undressed, Susan dropped to her knees and engulfed his cock. Frank's head fell and a moan escaped his lips. Susan's head seemed to glide effortlessly back and forth. Frank's hands went to her shoulders, more to steady himself than anything else. The feeling was euphoric as her warm, wet mouth and slick throat continued to envelope his shaft.

At that moment, Frank wanted nothing more than to have Susan feel the same. He bent down, tugged her up into his arms, and kissed her sloppily. Without warning, he catapulted her onto the bed. He crawled with a bit of drool hanging from his lips as he went in between her legs, licking his lips. He dove in, craving her sweet juices. He alternated lapping his tongue and driving it deep into her channel. His fingers were not to be outdone. He reached up and massaged her breasts, molding and shaping them into different geometric forms. He then brought them down in a swift movement to join in the same fun his tongue was enjoying. Her inner thighs became a testing ground for the new contours Frank felt he could create with his massages. He snickered into her chasm when the thought struck him that he should have been a geometry teacher. Done with math, he changed positions with his mouth. He swirled his tongue around her clit and assailed two fingers into her abyss. Susan was moaning her satisfaction and when he began to nibble her pearl, she grabbed hold of his head as her body came in ecstasy.

Frank moved up between her legs. Lust filled both of their eyes. Simultaneously, with a rapturous kiss, Frank pushed down, and Susan propelled her body upward, causing his cock to sink to the hilt. Their pelvises now combined, a feral look graced both their faces. Each knew they wanted, needed what was to happen next. Frank pulled back and then thrust forward, taking it slow. Susan matched him perfectly, relaxing and then arching her back to accept him fully again. They developed a rhythm, and their speed increased. He plunged into her velvet canal, and she rocked on his rigid pole.

Frank's movements erred on the rough side, his throbbing cock pounding into her, as he felt his impending satisfaction build. Susan, not to be outdone, was bucking feverishly into him. Frank let out a loud groan as he buried into her one last time. Susan wailed as an intense orgasm flowed through every ounce of her very being. Both were breathing heavily as Frank collapsed next to Susan. They gave each other a tender kiss before passing out.



~*~

"What – the – fuck." Frank drew out the words as he rubbed his head with both his hands. His eyes peered through the slits of his fingers to an unfamiliar ceiling. He bolted upright, and then grabbed his head again to keep the room from spinning. "Where am I?"

"What happened last night?" Susan threw her legs off the bed and sat up. Her eyes opened, but everything was a blur. "Where in the hell am I?" Her head jerked around.

The two individuals, who couldn't have been more intimate with each other a mere eight hours ago, were now once again at a standoff.

"Susan?"

"Frank?"

The two stared at each other in disbelief. "I need a shower." Susan stood, wrapped a sheet around herself, and headed for the bathroom.

Frank went about the task of collecting clothes. As he got dressed, he contemplated what he could remember. 'Dinner. I remember dinner. I'm pretty sure we went dancing after. That was fun. My ex never went dancing. But where are we now?' Frank looked around and saw the room service menu for the Dunesbury Hotel. Shit. Judging by the size of the suite, he realized he was going to have one hell of a credit card statement to look forward to. Might as well add to it. He ordered aspirin and breakfast. Not knowing what Susan's stomach or his for that matter could handle, he requested a small variety of everything. He then walked to the bathroom, knocked, and opened the door an inch. "I'm just bringing you your clothes." He reached in and set the garments on the counter before quickly jerking back out and shutting the door.

Frank went and sat on the bed, deep in thought. 'I'm confident I had a great time. Must have if we ended up here. If nothing else, I still remember dinner and most of our conversation. Susan was nothing like she is in the office. She was funny and insightful. I haven't had a woman in my life for far too long. I don't even care about the price of this room. I wonder what Susan thinks of the situation? Could she accept me? I doubt it.' He sighed and rubbed his face again.

Susan stood under the cascading water. She didn't want to come out as she was trying to replay how she ended up at a hotel with Frank Paxton of all people. 'I remember dinner. He shocked me with how cordial he was. He was a gentleman, and he was smart and engaging. I remember dancing. He was surprisingly graceful and light on his feet. I used to love dancing, but my career put a halt to that... I'm certain I had a wonderful time. What does Frank think of me now? He'll probably tell the whole office I'm a slut. Anything to cost me the promotion. Maybe he won't. He did bring me my clothes. What the fuck do I do?'

Susan let out a sigh and turned off the water. Drying off, she heard a knock on the door, but not the bathroom door. She listened as she got dressed.

"Room service."

Frank opened the door. "Thank you, right over there, please." He pointed to a dining room table.

"I'm Henry, and I'll be taking care of you this morning." The waiter rolled the cart over to where instructed. "So did you and the Missus enjoy your evening, sir?" He took the plates off the cart and arranged them on the table. He then poured two glasses full of orange juice and set the bottle of aspirin next to the carafe.

"Yes, of course." Frank didn't want to have to explain the situation, so he lied.

"I'm glad to hear it, sir." Henry walked over to Frank. "Do you require anything else? A morning paper or the maid, perhaps?"

"No, thanks. Here you go, my good man." Frank handed the waiter a tip.

"Thank you, sir." Henry shut the door as he left.

Frank took his seat and thought about how he might convince Susan to see him socially again. Without the alcohol. He was startled out of his unanswered quandary when Susan walked up.

"You must be hungry." Susan gave a light, nervous chuckle.

"I wasn't sure what you would like so I kind of got some of everything," Frank responded sheepishly.

Susan expected confidence, not the whispered tone she received. If this were a ploy, he would have been bolder in his response. That was encouraging. "Well, I'm positive I can't eat half of this food, but I will take some French toast."

Frank breathed a sigh of relief, happy she was willing to sit down and eat something with him but because he also ordered the French toast. Nervous about asking, he decided to let a few minutes pass before opening dialogue again. "Nice room, huh?" Why was asking this woman out so tough? Was it because of their months of harsh history?

Susan gazed at him intently. "Yeah, it's nice." She took a drink of her juice. "Don't worry, I'll help you pay for it." What was he up to?

Frank admonished himself as Susan clearly misunderstood what he was after. "No, no, it's not necessary. It was my pleasure." He mentally smacked himself for saying the word pleasure, uncertain how she would react to any perceived reference to last night.

Susan thought to come back with sarcasm. Something like 'I bet it was' but honestly didn't want to break the pleasant streak he was exhibiting, even though it was awkward. "No, I want to. Besides I remember you paid for dinner and dancing, and we were supposed to go dutch."

Frank decided to stop acting as if he was some lame high school kid again. He took a drink and took a deep breath before making eye contact. "Susan, I know we had our differences, and that's putting it mildly, but I had a wonderful evening with you. I would like to know if you are willing to try it again sometime."

Susan's eyes went wide in shock. She thought he was building up to something. Maybe a hoax or candid camera – anything to get her to lower her defenses.

"Sorry, I thought I'd take a shot." Frank stood.

Frank took a couple steps, but Susan stopped him by grabbing his arm. "Is this on the level?"

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