Take the Money and Come

Chapter 5: Engaging the Enemy

Chapter 5: Engaging the Enemy

“Good evening, Dear,” an older woman greeted Maya at the door to a magnificent-looking home, ignoring what she presumed to be her son altogether. “And who might you be?” she asked, a twinkle lit the woman's eyes as she beamed at Maya.

“I'm Maya Cullen, Ma'am,” she replied simply, unable to avoid smiling in response to the woman's enthusiasm.

“Please, call me Anne,” the woman insisted. “So, Michael...” she turned her attention to her son with an inquisitive expression, though it did nothing to extinguish the twinkling in her eyes.

“It's good to see you, too, Mom,” he greeted her, ignoring her unspoken question, though Maya didn't know why.

Wasn't introducing her as his fiancée precisely the point of the evening? But as an older, stern-looking man approached the front foyer of the big house, Michael's posture changed, like he was preparing for something, and Maya knew instinctively that this is what he had been waiting for. But, of course; it was his father who was issuing the ultimatum that could hamper his career, and so it would be to his father he most wanted to introduce his fiancée. Squaring her shoulders, she tried to mentally prepare herself. This was it.

The man's eyes fell on Maya and his expression softened some before his gaze continued on to Michael. “Hello, son,” he greeted coolly, but she could see the same inquisitiveness in the man's eyes.

“Hello, father. I'd like to introduce you to my fiancée, Miss Maya Cullen.”

The whole house fell silent, the young men and women she could see beyond Michael's parents all stopped conversing, turning to look directly at Maya, some of their mouths agape in surprise. She suddenly felt like a strange, previously undiscovered animal on display at the zoo. That was until Anne, squealing in delight, wrapped her arms around Maya. And then very quickly, she forgot about the surrounding onlookers, worrying more that she might suffocate right there in Anne's embrace. It was a long moment before Michael's mother released her, but Michael rescued her quickly, taking her hand and pulling her forward into the living room beyond the foyer as tiny shivers ran up her arm in response to his touch. Michael's father was silent, and Maya hoped it was in shock rather than suspicion, but she couldn't be sure. Turning back to look at him, whatever he was thinking was carefully guarded, a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes tugging at the corners of his lips.

She didn't have long to consider his father's response, bombarded suddenly with the rest of the family. But that brought to light a new problem, possibly a catastrophic flaw in their plan. She had completely forgotten the fact that she'd already “met” one of Michael's brothers, particularly the one who was standing in front of her now, eyeing her suspiciously with a knowing smile on his face. Her eyes darted to Michael, but he didn't seem the least bit unsettled. Did he not realize that his brother could destroy their charade in an instant? Michael nodded then, almost imperceptibly. If she hadn't been watching him she might have missed it altogether. Although she didn't understand how, he was letting her know that everything was okay, and she breathed a small sigh of relief. And as if to give her a few more moments to compose herself, a man dressed in formal attire stepped into the room then, announcing that dinner was ready.

The group migrated into an oversized dining room with an exquisite looking, hand-carved dining table, neatly adorned with delicate looking dinnerware and obviously real silver utensils. It was beautiful, like something out of a luxury home décor magazine. Who on earth would want to wreck it by eating on it? But it seemed that was the group's intention as they sat down around the table, Michael pulling out a chair for her and then taking a seat next to her. “No, no, no,” she chanted as yet another vision of Michael as the gallant lord threatened to fill her mind.

So ensconced in her own thoughts, she nearly jumped out of her chair as she felt Michael's hand against her thigh, patting gently at first as if it was meant as an encouraging gesture. But the motion changed a moment later, his hand resting on her skin as his fingers slid back and forth across her thigh. Despite the audience in the room, her arousal soared and within seconds, she could already feel her wetness beginning to soak her thong. As casually as she could, she lowered her hand beneath the table, intending to stop his wicked caress. It was no use; as her hand made contact with his, he began to move, gliding slowly along her thigh. She couldn't prevent him from climbing higher without making a scene.

As the meal was served, Michael's hand slid higher still, stopping as he reached her thong, the only bit of fabric left separating him from her warm wetness. She could have slapped his hand away, or stood and excused herself to the ladies' room. But she didn't. God help her, she did the only thing she knew she shouldn't; Maya released his hand, reaching for the glass of wine in front of her as she spread her thighs just a little, a wicked thrill coursing through her as she looked around the table. It was most definitely the naughtiest thing she'd ever done. Michael didn't hesitate for a second, his fingers moving higher, sliding the fabric of her thong out of his way before gliding along her wet slit. Spreading her legs a little wider, she stifled the urge to moan as his fingers made contact with her clit. He stopped moving then, his fingers pressing gently against her throbbing nub of flesh. She didn't know why at first, but it occurred to her quite quickly, her hips writhing slightly to create the friction her body desired.

That's what he'd been waiting for, to feel her body respond to him despite the company surrounding them. She could see the devilish smile on his face for the briefest of seconds from the corner of her eye, but as he responded to some question one of his brothers asked, his fingers began to move. He rubbed slowly at first as she took another sip of wine, doing her best to focus on the questions Anne was asking her and responding casually. It became increasingly difficult to maintain her focus as Michael rubbed faster and faster, but just seconds before she spiraled over the edge, his fingers were suddenly gone, that same devilish smile on his face once more. He'd deliberately brought her to the brink only to leave her stranded there. She tried her best to hide her body's frustrated, disappointed response; all she wanted was to feel his fingers pressed against her once more...just a few more seconds.

She didn't remember eating a single bite of her meal, but apparently she had nearly cleaned the plate. “It must have been good,” she thought to herself, almost laughing at the absurdity of it. But before she knew it, dessert had been served and cleared, and conversation was winding down around the table. She'd done a decent job of contributing lively conversation given that she couldn't get her mind off the man sitting next to her, or his wicked fingers. Michael was the first to rise, letting the group know that he had an early meeting the next morning and it was about time he headed for home. The casual tone in his voice led Maya to believe he'd all but forgotten his naughty play beneath the table not an hour earlier, but he showed her quickly that wasn't the case.

The door had barely closed behind them when they reached the bottom of the front porch staircase. Michael's hands were there, wrapping around her as he pressed her back against the brick exterior of the house.

“I wanted to be able to watch you...to look in your eyes when you c*m,” he whispered huskily in her ear, explaining why he'd stopped what he'd been doing to her earlier.

His mouth descended on hers then, crushing her lips beneath his own as his tongue plied against her lips, demanding entry. Caught off guard and already overwhelmed with desire, it didn't cross Maya's mind that they were standing in front of his brother's house, the outdoor lights making it so the night barely concealed them from anyone who happened to walk by. His firm, muscled arms held her tight against him and she could feel the massive size of him pressed against her stomach. A thrill coursed through her body at knowing he was so hard for her. Michael's hands came between them then, cupping her full t**s while his thumbs teased her n*****s, rubbing back and forth rhythmically. A moan escaped her lips but his mouth caught her noise, preventing it from alerting anyone to their presence their. His body shielding her from the direct view of onlookers, she didn't resist when he pulled the fabric of her strapless dress down, her breasts springing free. Pulling away from her, Michael's eyes looked down, taking in the view he'd revealed.

“God, you're beautiful,” he told her emphatically, his voice still a husky whisper.

His mouth swooped down, his lips encircling one n****e as he sucked her into his mouth. She stifled a moan as her own hands began to explore, first down his back, up along the flexing muscles of his arms to graze across his hard chest, feeling the outline of his washboard abs through the fabric of his shirt. A sound escaped her lips, something akin to a frustrated sound as she reached his waist, his pants hampering her descent further. But he wasn't interested in helping her reach her destination just yet it seemed. Instead, she felt his fingers glide down her ribs, past her stomach and further down to the hem of her skirt. Pulling it up with him as he retraced his descent, he stopped when he reached the apex of her thighs, stilling as he pressed against her as he had before.

“Damn!” she cursed silently, too hot, too aroused to wait.

His brief teasing felt like torment and she was already writhing against him, letting her body move against his hand. But instead of giving in to her as she pressed her clit against him, he moved away, the hem of her skirt falling back down to mid-thigh. She looked at him, perplexed but too heady with arousal to formulate a question. But there was no need. He dropped down to the ground then, lifting her skirt back up to her waist as he breathed in her scent. Hooking his thumbs in the sides of her thong, he pulled down swiftly, and in seconds she was completely exposed to him, her smooth, wet p***y just inches from his face. His groan was guttural as he lunged forward, his tongue making contact with her clit and nearly making her hips buck in response. She laced her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck as his tongue licked back and forth, and as his tongue left to glide along her wet slit, parting her lips, she spread her legs, revealing every inch of her to his view. He groaned yet again and she could still feel the vibrations on his tongue as he plunged inside her p***y, thrusting in and out at a frantic pace and she knew she wouldn't be able to hang on for long. Just seconds later, Maya's back arched as she dug her fingers into Michael's shoulders, cumming hard as his tongue thrust deep inside her one last time, his eyes vivid with desire, fixed on her gaze.

He stood as the aftershocks of her o****m spasmed through her. Unzipping the fly of his pants, he pulled out his massive, rock hard c**k and Maya's mouth began to water. But before she could make a move, his arms were around her, lifting her off the ground and lowering her down on his hard shaft. She wrapped her legs around him as he plunged in deeper, moving slow enough that her body could could adjust to the size of him little by little. Finally, he had reached the hilt, filling her completely; Maya had never felt so full, could never have imagined the sensation of a c**k stretching her, gliding along every pleasure sensor she possessed. He withdrew then until only the tip of him remained sheathed in her warmth, stilling for a moment before thrusting back in slowly. Again and again, he filled her, making her moan in pleasure as he plunged inside and whimper quietly as he withdrew. As his pace increased, the sensations blurred together and Maya could feel another o****m building quickly. Her t**s bounced wildly as he f****d her harder and before long she was burying her head against his shoulder, stifling a scream as she started to c*m, her o****m surging through every inch of her body. As her p***y spasmed around him, she felt Michael thrust one last time, filling her to the hilt as he shot his load deep inside her p***y.

Holding her against him for a moment, she unwrapped her legs from around his waist as he lowered her feet back to the ground, still holding her firmly against him. Perhaps he knew the effect he had because she was grateful for his strong arms, unsure whether her legs were sturdy enough to hold her at the moment. After a minute or two he released her but his hands moved to the neckline of her dress—still pushed down to her waist—and pulled it up gently, concealing her breasts beneath the fabric. Leaning down, he kissed her softly, his fingers caressing her jaw. It was so...gentle, so in contrast to the wild, reckless ride she'd been on just a moment before. He met her eyes and she could already see arousal beginning to flare anew in his eyes. But his hands fell to his sides then, clenching his teeth as he turned away.

“Come on, I'll take you home, Maya,” he told her, something in his voice she hadn't heard there before.

“Oh my God, is that regret?” she wondered incredulously. It hadn't been five minutes since he'd left her body! Was he disappointed? Was it because she wasn't as experienced as the women he was accustomed to? Oh God, this was so embarrassing! After what was such an amazing experience for her, all she wanted to do was bury her head in the sand. She hurried to Michael's car, sliding in the passenger side before he caught up to open the door. He slid in next to her, sitting silently with his hands on the wheel.

What the hell had he just done?!? This was supposed to have been a business arrangement and he couldn't make it through a single day without ruining it. Michael had thought he had a handle on himself when he picked Maya up earlier that evening, but the moment he laid eyes on her, his tenuous self-control began to give way. It had taken every ounce of strength he had to keep his hands to himself until they were seated at the table. When he'd seen that opportunity to touch her, he couldn't resist, watching her come so close all the while trying to appear calm and collected. After, he thought he had gotten himself under control once again until they stepped out of the house. He had no idea what had come over him; he'd never lost control so fast...or so completely. The moment his brother had closed the front door behind them, he had to have Maya. Hell, he couldn't even wait to get her back to his house...or at least the back seat of his car. If she'd resisted, perhaps he could have gotten a handle on himself, but the way she'd responded to him...he hadn't had a hope in hell of winning that battle.

“I'm sorry, Maya. That wasn't supposed to happen,” he told her, still looking straight ahead with his hands on the steering wheel. It wasn't until he realized she wasn't making a sound or moving a single muscle that he looked over, only then recognizing the look on her face. She felt embarrassed, humiliated even. Was she regretting what had happened, wishing she'd never given herself to him? Or was she interpreting his own response as displeasure with her? “This is precisely why one should never mix business with pleasure; what the hell am I supposed to do now?” he queried silently to himself.

Doing his best to try to alleviate the palpable tension in his car, he reached out to place his hand on hers, “I think it was just pent-up hormones getting the best of us. It was incredible, but I'm sure you'd agree we should try to keep things professional from here on out.” There, that sounded reasonable enough, didn't it? Great s*x, sure, but they were involved in a business arrangement, and it was best to keep things that way.

“Absolutely,” Maya responded then, the enthusiasm in her voice obviously forced, but it would have to be enough. What more could he say?

Revving the engine, he pulled out of his brother's driveway, the silence making the drive more awkward than if they'd been warring enemies stuffed into a car together. “So, you're good with the vacation plan?” he queried as they neared Maya's house.

“Um, what plan?” she asked, completely unaware of any plan beyond dinner at Michael's brother's house that evening.

“My mother and Sabrina—John's wife—were discussing it with you over dinner; the family trip to St. Lucia in three weeks. You said you were on board, remember?” he replied lightly.

“I guess my mind was elsewhere,” she responded dryly, her cheeks flaming red knowing Michael knew precisely what had been occupying her mind and body at the time. “St. Lucia?!?” she exclaimed, only then just realizing what he'd been saying. “In three weeks? For how long?” she queried in a panic. How was she supposed to jet off to the Caribbean with her fake fiancée when she was supposed to be nose-deep in schoolwork?

“Oh, usually a week or two. It's always somewhere different. I figured you might like the Caribbean since you'd finally be able to do absolutely nothing but lay on the beach,” he smiled, and Maya couldn't help but be touched by what he'd said. His family could have chosen anywhere in the world for this getaway they were planning, but he'd remembered what she'd said at lunch earlier and customized their vacation for her. “Wow,” she thought, at least momentarily forgetting about the awkwardness that had been prevalent in the car up to that moment. But she couldn't possibly go...but she had to; it would be considered part of their agreement, no doubt. So close, and now she was going to end up losing her school year anyway. Maya fell silent, and Michael turned to her as he shifted the car into park in her driveway, his gaze searching hers.

“School...” he said, correctly guessing the new source of her tension. He was quiet for a moment, and then, “Let me see what I can do,” he told her, his voice resonating with confidence.

But Maya didn't want Michael and his family completely rearranging their plans because of her. That certainly wasn't part of their bargain. She'd just have to figure something out. At least with the money she'd be able to repeat the year if she had to. “That's okay. I'm sure it will be fine. Is there anything I should be doing to get ready?” she asked in afterthought. She'd never been to the Caribbean before—she'd never been anywhere before, really. Going to college was the furthest she'd ever been from home and it certainly wasn't any kind of vacation. A little thrill coursed through her, thinking about her first getaway ever. It helped to alleviate the sinking feeling that came with knowing she was suddenly another year away from her career.

“There's absolutely nothing you have to do. Just be ready for takeoff in three weeks, and until then, look forward to nothing but sand and sunshine in the Caribbean,” he smiled, feeling that at least the evening was ending on a better note than it could have.

He still couldn't believe he'd taken Maya right there on his brother's front lawn. But it was becoming more believable by the second, sitting next to her in his car, the moonlight softly highlighting her delicate features, soft skin, her full breasts...“Dammit!” he cursed silently, arousal surging through his veins. If he didn't get out of there right now, he'd have more than one loss of self control to regret that evening.

“I'll have my secretary call you with the details later this week, and I'll let you know if any other family stuff comes up, okay?” He turned then, repositioning himself in the driver's seat. It he were a gentleman, he'd walk around and open the door for his “date,” but if he did that, it seriously increased the chances of him taking her right there in the driveway on the hood of his car. He definitely needed some distance between himself and Maya.

“Goodnight,” he told her, a little more harshly than he had intended, but it got the point across.

“Goodnight, Michael,” she told him, leaning over to kiss him quickly before darting out of the car and up the porch steps to her front door.