A Controlling Interest

"There's something, what is it?"

"OK, there is something, but I can't ask here." He gestured with his head towards the closed off dining area. "In there."

"What on earth are you talking about?" She was really afraid now. With him standing so close she could see he was even more gorgeous than she'd previously thought, and his elusive familiarity was definitely a sexual one.

"It's just an embarrassing question, is all. And I'm not sure exactly how..." He flashed his clenched teeth in awkward frustration, a look she hadn't expected from such a poised, self-assured, good looking man. It made him human and she appreciated that. "It'll just be easier away from the guys is all."

"Really? It's that bad?"

He closed his eyes and laughed. "No, but you'll know why I'm hesitant soon enough."

His gaze rolled down the front of her dress, and his eyebrows relaxed in a way that made her think he was having a fond memory. Watching him jogged a memory of her own, and she raised her eyebrow and bit her lip, seeing herself standing naked before him, the light from a computer screen turning her flesh blue.

But that was stupid, out of seven lovers only two were one night stands and she could still see their faces in her x-rated, mental snap-shots of those two, very long nights. It was just the way Patrick looked at her, so confident, so knowing, she was inventing memories to explain his presumptuousness.

She offered him her hand. "OK, you win, lead the way."

He unclasped the velvet rope and she stepped into the dim deserted dining room with him. He then led her over to the windowed wall, and they both took a moment to marvel at the panoramic view of the Valley. It was an awe-inspiring, endless grid of street lamps and glowing signs. She imagined some obsessive-compulsive deity plucking the billions of stars in the universe and arranging them like a Christmas display across the black velvet basin.

"Pretty amazing, huh?"

"No kidding!"

"It's weird to think I work somewhere down there, and that one of those little tiny offices is where I sit at a desk and dream about being someplace else."

"I know what you mean. I sit bored behind a desk somewhere in that mess too. I like my job, though."

"Don't get me wrong, I love what I do. I like working with startups----helping them get funded. I don't think I'd do anything else, but if I could do it on a boat..." She could see his reflection in the long window, and his teeth gnashed together behind his smile. "OK, that's the 405 and there's the 101, so that other big vein of red and white lights has to be Ventura Blvd. I bet I can follow it clear to my office."

"Alright, as pretty as this is, I have to know what is so embarrassing you had to drag me in here."

"Dragged?" The corners of his smirk curled into a patronizing flourish. "Enticed maybe. And I'm getting there, just give me a second, I've almost pinpointed my office."

He pressed a finger against the glass as he announced the intersection at Laurel Canyon. He put his other hand on her cheek and leaned her in close, so her eyes aligned with his fingertip and the intersecting beads of light off in the distance. Her black, straight hair brushed the side of his face, and in the reflection she saw strands sweeping over his lips as they parted. The last drink cushioned reality, but her heart still beat so strongly she wondered if he felt her pulse in her cheek.

"Right there, see it?"

She suddenly realized where he was pointing, and her heart drummed faster and harder as she again conjured up a memory of herself standing naked. No fucking way!

OK, so there was one incident that would cause Reagan to die of embarrassment, and it took place in the tiny building just above his fingertip. But not even Brandon knew that precious little secret. She was just being paranoid----there was no way Patrick was leading up to that. He couldn't possibly be one of the guys who....

She broke away. "You are some kind of flirt, aren't you?" She patted her hair down, straightening her perfect black bob.

"Guilty as charged. I can't help it. Sweet talking is just what I do. It's my gift."

She chuckled. He was just so boldly arrogant. "Well I should probably get back to the party."

"I thought your boyfriend wanted you to stay with us----make sure we were well taken care of."

"Is that another one of your gifts, twisting meanings around?"

He held her by the shoulder, applying almost no pressure. "Look, I know you're unavailable, and I'll let you go, but there's still something I need to ask."

She swallowed hard. Patrick had the kind of eyes that could see right through a person, and she drew a finger towards the edge of her mouth, desperately trying to convince herself he couldn't possibly know what she'd been up to in her office.

"OK." She trembled, and the trembling affected her voice. "What? What do you want to know?"

His smile climbed the right side of his face and he lightly massaged her shoulder. She allowed him to, because the way he was putting the moves on her he had to have some really juicy ammo backing him up.

"Just one thing first. I just want to actually point out my office." His finger tip touched the glass again and a light fog surrounded it. "It's the horseshoe shaped building. That one, right there, just off Laurel Canyon. See it?" His head came beside hers again, and they both stared past his finger as life evaporated from her body into a vacuum of relegation.

"There's a little courtyard inside of the horseshoe that was left as a concrete slab. So Steve and I put up a basketball hoop and play a little ball after work two nights a week."

She recalled the courtyard in her mind. Whenever she'd grown frustrated with a spread for a client, she'd taken a break from her computer screen to stare out of her floor-to-ceiling, office window and imagined how it could be spruced up with trees and a small garden, and maybe even a very small pond. It would've been a pleasant place to eat lunch, instead of a sparse white slab between the nice office buildings where leaves collected. But when she'd seen the two guys wheel in a portable basketball hoop not fifteen feet from her window and then leave it there, she'd finally accepted the property management would never do anything with the ugly neglected space. The dream was dead.

"We share the building with a design studio, and first evening we shoot hoops I noticed two girls working in neighboring offices at the head of the courtyard." His lips neared her ear, and he whispered in a seductive tone. "One was pretty, but the other was out of this world gorgeous."

Obviously he was pressing her to admit it was her, but she remained silent. It was all she could do as she recalled the evening Janet had come next door to her office, sat on her desk, openly stared at the two guys playing basketball, and said, "Looks like our offices finally got a view." The guy who must've been Patrick had then peeled off his jersey and tossed it to the side, causing Janet to smirk and announce, "Well, there's nothing distracting about that, huh?" Reagan had given up on getting any more work done, but couldn't bring herself to look directly out the window like Janet, even as Patrick came running towards them and leapt up, stretching towards the basket. From the corner of her eye she'd caught the muscles denting outwards all along his torso, but payed no attention to his face. Janet had giggled. "God, he's really something, isn't he?"

Reagan's thoughts returned to the hotel and the magnificent view of the Valley when Patrick placed a second hand on her shoulders, and gently kneaded deeper into her tense deltoids. Again she didn't resist, still too petrified to move.

"I'd always wondered if we were bothering the two ladies, but then it was after five and they were free to go home, and yet they never did. I had to wonder if they didn't stay late on purpose. I know the pretty girl did, because she'd spin her chair around and just watch, but the drop dead gorgeous one... She seemed more reserved. At least that's what I thought." His lips actually nudged her ear. "But I think I'm wrong about her. Very wrong!"

Reagan took a deep breath, readying herself to step away and tell him she had no idea what he was talking about. He wouldn't believe her, but she had to deny it. She opened her mouth, prepared to speak out, but then exhaled deeply as his fingers seemed to melt into her back and a cool burn raced up from her pelvis, leaving her knees too wobbly to move. The burn was so strong, in fact, she had to clamp her humid thighs together, and that's when she felt him lightly press his slacks into the butt of her stretchy dress.

"It turns out the gorgeous one liked to either go running or hit the gym after work. I know because every night at five-forty-five she'd lower the blinds and then get dressed." His hands slid down her arms, his fingers grinding into the springy muscle. "I know this because when November approached, and dusk set in earlier, the light inside her office seeped through the slats of the blinds."

His hands lowered to her hips, until his fingers rested on her pelvis bone and then his thumbs began digging into her low back. "There was just enough space between slats to make out the figure inside. Not enough to see any detail, but I could tell by the way she moved she was slipping out of a dress and unfastening her bra. Steve thought about knocking on the window and letting her know the blinds weren't as private as she thought, but I convinced him it would only embarrass her and ruin a good thing."

His thumbs touched lower, burrowing into the top of her butt cheeks. His cock firmed up inside his slacks, and she could feel its large shape aligned to the crack of her ass. Light headedness caused her to lean back against him, and he took that as a cue to nuzzle his cheek against hers.

Fuck, was she ever getting turned on, but she should feign innocence and slap him in the face for insinuating such trash. Even if it caused bad blood between her and her boyfriend's new partners, this had to stop before it became something even worse. No matter how good it felt to be against that body she'd inadvertently marveled over the last couple months, someone could look into the dim deserted dining room at any moment, and they'd see his hands on her hips holding her against his groin as he pressed his cock against her ass and whispered into her ear.

There was no other option than to end the moment, and she began to turn away from him, but then a hand raced up to her cheek and he spoke to the side of her face. "I was right. That gorgeous woman knew what she was doing, because each time we played ball after that the slats in the blinds widened. And as long as we kept dribbling and shooting, we were treated to everything she had."

A palm swept down her short, blood-red dress to her thigh. It stayed still a moment, luxuriating in the smooth tight feel of her leg. He then took hold of the silky fabric, pinching it between thumb and forefinger, and brought the dress upwards. She watched her own faint reflection, as the hem neared her panties.

"That girl was fucking hot and she wanted us to know it. She had to be aware those half opened blinds didn't hide a damn thing. And she seemed to take longer and longer getting dressed. There must've been a full length mirror on the wall, because she'd stand in front of it and check herself out. Needless to say, we did the same."

Her hem moved to her belly, and his other hand landed softly on her black, lacy panties. His fingers teased at the miniature black ribbon lying flush and center, and then he inched them into the waistband and threatened to pull it downwards.

It was too much. A line had been crossed. "What makes you think I'd be interested in hearing about this woman?" She began to step forwards, but he pulled her hips back against him. In the process her short dress was lifted higher in back, clearing her butt. The entire lower half of her dress was now up around her waist, and his dick was close to hard and crushed between her thong exposed ass cheeks.

"The woman had a very nicely groomed... What's a good way to put it? She kept only a very thin strip to point the way----very distinctive and memorable." His thumbs stretched the waistband of her panties outwards. "Shall we?"

She took hold of his hands, stopping him. "Please don't." Her voice was weak and unconvincing. She saw herself in the window, in his arms. She saw her skimpy black panties like tissue paper about to be snapped apart by his long, stout fingers. She wanted him to lower them, find the thin strip of pubic hair underneath and prove himself right. A dirty heat seethed in her pelvis----a inner burst of diesel fumes that circulated throughout her legs and chest, leaving a tingling residue in its wake. She craved to be exposed... again. But she couldn't allow it. She just couldn't.

"I had my doubts at first, but you wouldn't look me in the eye. And then you followed me in here..."

"If I'd known who you were I never would've."

He laughed. "Yet you did. And I find it even more interesting you'd step away from your boyfriend with a complete stranger."

Her palms flattened over top of his hands, releasing their control and caressing the fingers holding her panties. His thumbs were still inside and in contact with the sensitive skin at the peak of her thighs.

"You have the whole Valley watching from up here. Show them what you showed me." He nibbled her earlobe, and she exhaled a creaky moan. "Let them discover what a hot pussy you're hiding in there."

"Pussy" didn't sound vulgar on his whispering lips. In fact it sounded so sensual she had to repeat it. "My pussy..."

"Your hot little pussy."

His thumbs glided downwards, her panties going with them. They paused at the thin strip of pubic hair and her breath paused, too. He began humming, humoring himself as he kissed her cheek, but then with a quick jerk he exposed her pussy to the brilliantly lit Valley beyond the long spans of window. She gasped when he did, and his humming shifted gears, becoming a little sinister and divulging the wickedness in his intentions.

She could hear voices from the bar, reminding her again that at any moment someone could peek in. And as she stared at the reflection of her pussy in the clean glass, she pleaded, "Patrick! Someone will..." His mouth came down on top of hers. She instantly gave in. She'd been bewitched by him for so long she didn't have to think twice about it, and their tongues roughly tore at one another. He sucked on her lip and she bit back. God he was so sexy she just wanted to devour him.

He then lowered to his knees, sliding her panties down her thighs. They passed her knees, glided down her smooth calves, loosely fell past her ankles and then he assisted in lifting her black pumps off the floor----first one and then the other----until the skimpy black thong cleared the last pointed toe.

He stood up and kissed her neck. "You're shaking. Let me get you another drink."

She was just beginning to feel the last, but returning to the party would return her to her senses. At this point being around other people would be the only way to return to her senses and stop what had gone far too far. And it had to be stopped. He had to be stopped. He had to be!

"Yes please." She turned, breaking free of his hands to face him. "I could really use one."

She began to walk away, but he took hold of her shoulders and prevented her next step. Her black thong dangled from his hand and hung down along her arm. "Allow me." His blue eyes focused on her so powerfully she felt like she was being hypnotized. "Brandon's buying, so at least let me do the fetching." He then sidestepped and released her shoulders. He paused and slipped the black panties into the pocket of his slacks. "I'll just hold onto these. I'll consider them my bearer bond." His smile broke big. "I suppose you don't know much about the market, but I bet your boyfriend would find that pretty fucking funny."

She doubted that. Without another word she watched Patrick walk out towards the doorway and back into the bar area. She fixated on how his broad shoulders smoothed out his deep-mustard button down, revealing the classical shapes along his back, and how his black slacks flowed with his confident relaxed gate and hugged his tight buns. It was distressing watching the gorgeous man step through the velvet rope and leave, especially knowing panties were in the pocket of those tailored pants----her panties! And god her dress was way too short for this game.

It was crazy! What was happening? When she'd undressed in front of the office window it had felt safe. They had been outside and she'd been protected by the pretense of the blinds. She'd accidentally given them a show, even if she'd been more obvious than she'd thought. But blinds didn't exist here, nothing separated them, and Patrick was exactly as dangerous as she'd imagined. Her libido was like a tightly wound spring as she replayed the moment his tongue had entered her mouth and he'd slipped her panties to the ground. She then looked back out at the Valley and confronted her own reflection again. She looked like a ghost in dream. She felt like a ghost in a dream----a wispy apparition of her inner dirty heat. The reality of what just happened hadn't yet set in. Maybe it never would. When she'd undressed at her office things had only grown less real in passing time. Her mind treated it as something that had happened to one of her girlfriends, not her. If she'd managed to look directly at their faces it would've made it all very real, but she hadn't, and as a result she'd never been rationally present.

She placed her hand on her tummy, where the sides of her cotton chiffon dress snuggly converged to form an hour glass. Goddamn she looked good. Her hips tilted right and her thin waist snaked left, offsetting her small torso. The scoop neckline displayed her perfect cleavage and encased her tits so firmly that her C-cups pressed into one another like the opposing Cs in the Chanel logo. And that older woman was right, she did have great legs and the short dress did show them off well. Her nightly run provided a tight, toned shape and sexy, gentle curves. Really her body was always a step above her girlfriends', and they were all beautiful woman in The Biz.

As she stared at herself superimposed over the Valley lights, it dawned on her Patrick had known what the grand view of the city lights would do to her. The urge to be naked in front of millions hit strong. And was that so wrong? She'd had this conversation with herself before, and previously decided there was nothing weird about showing off, not with a body like hers. Even if just one pair of eyes traced her young, fantastic figure and lingered on her bare breasts, the dirty heat would smolder in her like a kiln. And there couldn't be a more desirable pair of eyes than Patrick's wicked blue ones. Her hand lowered until it rested over her crotch. What if he returned to find her dress collapsed on the floor, and her standing there in that vast deserted room completely exposed to the city below. She tucked two fingers between her legs, the cotton chiffon stretching around them. Her mouth dropped open as she breathed in a quick, audible gulp of air. She held them in place with just enough pressure for her pussy to circulate burning heat around them. She closed her eyes, thinking of her panties balled up in the pocket of his slacks. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck, she was losing it! Patrick played her so smoothly. She wasn't strong enough for this. Fuck!

"Goddammit, Brandon, where the fuck are you?"