AJ’s Note: In the original draft, the male main character (MMC) was named Oscar Martin, and the name of his company was MarTech. For version 2.0, his name is Rafael Alvarado, and the name of his company is Augmented. There are other minor changes as well, but I wanted to point that out in case any regular readers were confused.

This is a preview of Chapter Six: Blurred Lines, which is the mid point of the story.

Plot Summary: Cara Kavanaugh is a brilliant coder and developer who wrote a proprietary algorithim that revoluntionized the way her company does business. Rafael Alvarado is “The Prince of Tech”, a billionare who owns a larger tech company and frequently graces the tabloids due to his party boy lifestype. He’s so impressed with Cara’s code that he bought the company she works for just to have access to it. During the acquisition, he meets Cara for the first time and the two of them lightly dance around an attraction to one another, but Rafael’s reputation for being a playboy and a bit of a snake keep her from forming any real attachment to her new boss… Except Rafael doesn’t seem at all like the tabloids say he is… One afternoon, tensions boil over and Rafael and Cara find themselves unable to keep their hands off one another…

Trigger Warning for this chapter: Contains graphic depictions of sex and sexual activities.

Blurred Lines

Rafael was waiting on the stoop of my building when I arrived.  Wordlessly, opened the lobby door and he followed me inside, up to my apartment.  The door had barely shut behind us when he was pulling my shirt over my head, and I was pawing at the button of his jeans 

“You,” he said as he kissed my lips, my neck, my chest. “Are so beautiful, and these last few weeks have been torture, seeing you and not being able to touch you.  I would think about you and get so hard it would hurt.”  He pulled his shirt off and dropped his pants, still in the narrow entryway of my apartment.  Once we were both in our underwear, the evidence of his arousal was prominent, pushing the waistband of his boxes out far enough for me to see that light brown trail of hair. I swallowed hard.

“I would like to revisit our agreement,” I said as my chest heaved.

“Your terms?”

“At least once a week, just sex.”

“Just sex,” he agreed. “Any other conditions?”

“No,” I said. “Now fuck me.”

“Such a dirty mouth.”

He fucked me on the floor next to my front door, hard and fast, greedily sucking on my nipples as he pounded me.  It was uncomfortable there on the floor, but I didn’t care, because then I was cumming and he was kissing me while I did.

“Fuck,” he swore when we finished. He stood up and then extended his hand to me to help me up. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” I said, trying to catch my breath.  I pulled my t-shirt back on. “So hard it hurts, huh?”

“Yeah… Then I’d have to go home and look at that picture you sent me to help take care of business.”

“Really?” 

“Are you aware of just how fiendishly perfect your body is? It’s like you were designed to ruin me.”  He sighed, pulling on his boxers. “I think about you all the time, Cara. You drive me crazy.”

“How do I drive you crazy?”

“Well… I’d see you at the office, catch a whiff of your perfume, or see the curve of your ass as you leaned over someone’s shoulder to see what they were working on, and it turns me on.” He grabbed a handful of my ass cheek and squeezed.  “It’s really, really awkward to have a hardon while you’re on a conference call with a bunch of investors.”

“Next time that happens, feel free to bring it directly to me.”

“Are you relaxing your position on playtime at the office?” he asked, his eyes twinkling.

“No,” I said. “Bring it to me after work, then.”

“As you wish,” he said, grinning. He grabbed me by the hip and pulled me closer to him.  I wasn’t wearing anything from the waist down, and he slid his fingers along the curves of my thighs, along the intimate folds between my legs.  His lips met mine and he slid his fingers inside me.  His other hand snaked up my ribcage beneath my shirt, and gently pinched my nipple. A moan escaped my lips.

“Ready for round two?” he purred, biting my earlobe.

“More than ready,” I whispered.

After we finished, he went to the bathroom to clean up.  I heard him turning the water off and on again. When he emerged, he looked annoyed.

“What’s wrong?”

“The faucet in your bathroom drips.  And water comes out of the handle when you turn it on.”

“Quirks of rental living. Maintenance will only come out if it’s an emergency.” I said. “It doesn’t really bother me.”

He got dressed, kissed me lightly, and then left.  I lay in bed, feeling like a new woman.  Several intense orgasms, the feelings of his hands on my breasts and between my thighs… I wasn’t lying, I had missed him something fierce.

My phone buzzed just before I laid down to go to sleep.

Thinking about you, he wrote.  I smiled, thinking of him in his own bed across town, thinking of me.  It excited me enough that I slid a hand between my thighs.

***

Helen’s face was unreadable as I sat across from her in her office.

“We’re certainly seeing a lot of each other,” she said. “What can I do for you?”

“I’ve ended my relationship with Joshua Torres,” I said.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she said, making a note on her little pad. 

“And, there’s one other thing,” I said sheepishly.

She looked up, and a hint of incredulity passed over her face.

“I’ve started seeing Rafael again.”

She pressed her lips together, and I knew she wanted to say something, to tell me she thought it was a terrible idea, and that perhaps I should stop seeing people I worked with, but instead, all she said was:

“I understand, I will note it in your file.”

Fridays were back on the menu, though Rafael would often come by randomly through the week as well, on those days he couldn’t contain himself. I had no complaints about that. Things were back to the way they were at the start: The lines clearly drawn. No muss, no fuss.

The first Friday after we resumed our carnal agreement arrived. He knocked on the door at the usual time, and when he came in, I led him back to my bedroom.  Without a word, I dropped to my knees, undid his belt and unzipped his jeans.  He was already rock hard as I pulled him out of his boxers.  I took him into my mouth until his legs were shaking, and he came.

“Fuck,” he swore. “Good girl.”

He pushed my back onto the bed, practically ripping my clothes off.  He buried his face between my thighs and stayed there until I practically begged him to fuck me.

No man has ever made me orgasm the way that Rafael Alvarado does.

Week after week, after he left, I told myself that this was what I wanted. No strings. No attachment.  Just the release that we got from each other.

But sometimes, he would say or do something sweet, something else to give me pause. They were always small things.  He admitted once he read Pride and Prejudice because he had seen my well loved copy on my nightstand. He brought me a box of Reese’s Pieces because he knew I liked them. I knew if he wanted to, he could move mountains to woo me.  He was a man of unlimited wealth and unlimited resources, but for some reason, that box of candy and the admission he read my favorite book made me feel like there was something more than just sex there. 

I felt a sense of understanding with Rafael that I never had with anyone else before, not even Chris and certainly not Josh.  Professionally, he understood that sometimes I needed clarification, and he never made me feel like I was being difficult by asking for it.  And despite the fact that when we spent time alone together it was mostly carnal, on the rare occasions that we did talk, the conversation flowed easily.  And the sex… Well, that was in a league unto itself. I never experienced someone who understood me on every level before, and try as I might to remind myself about the lines I’d drawn when we started up again, I felt myself yearning for him on the nights he stayed away.  Yearning for that understanding.

And then, something shifted between us.

One Friday afternoon, I was working from home and I received a text from Rafael.

Do you mind if I come by a little earlier than normal?

No, that’s fine. Hot date later?

No, I just have some things planned that might take some time. 😉

Color me intrigued. I’m here, come by whenever. Come now, if you want.

A short time later, there was a knock at my door. The fluttering in my stomach was back.

“No,” I said to myself before I opened the door. “Don’t get all silly. The lines are clear.”

I opened the door.  He was carrying a toolbox and I felt my brows knit together as I tried to make sense of it.

“The sink in your bathroom,” he explained, nodding to the toolbox in his hand.

“I didn’t know you were handy.”

“I have a degree in mechanical engineering. I think I can handle a bathroom faucet.”

“You know,” I said as I stood back to let him in. “I have fantasies that start like this, but the plumber is shirtless.” I joked.

“I’ll take off my shirt if you clear some space on your counter for me.”

I grabbed my empty laundry basket and gathered up my makeup, various hair tools, facewash and other bathroom counter detritus, getting everything out of his way. True to his word,  he pulled his shirt over his head, revealing his lean torso, and -god- those arms and his impossibly perfect shoulders. He worked for about 10 minutes and then tested the faucet. Water did not go squirting everywhere. Apparently he did know what he was doing. He washed his hands, and then he pitched his hand back and gave me a hefty slap on my ass cheek.

“Are you trying to act out that plumber fantasy?” He asked, taking me by the hips and pulling me close to him.

“Maybe,” I whispered. We stood there for a long moment, staring into each other’s eyes. It was somehow more intimate than anything we had done up to that point. Normally my instinct would be to look away, avert my gaze, but we held one another’s gaze for quite some time… Then he pulled me still closer, and lifted my chin gently with his fingers. He kissed me softly. Like a…

Like a boyfriend would, I realized. I couldn’t explain the difference, something in the set of his jaw, the tilt of his head was different this time. The way he cupped my face, entwining his fingers in my hair. Not pulling, just gently curling it around his fingers. It was… sweet. He put his arms around me, his large hands spanning the width of my back. Enveloping me, like I was fragile, breakable, worthy of protecting. I tried not to read too much into this. Maybe this was part of the fantasy? He’s too good at this. God, my stomach was churning. My skin was hot, and I felt color flooding to my cheeks.

“Wait,” I said breathlessly. He let go of me instantly, and looked me in the eye, waiting for my next instruction. “Is that… was that…” I took a deep breath. “Was that part of the fantasy?”

 “Was what?”

  “You weren’t…”  I dropped my gaze, trying to find the words, but he cupped my face in his hand, looking into my eyes again… And I didn’t want to look away, not like I did with other people. I gazed back at him, losing myself in his eyes. “You weren’t being tender as an act?” I finally managed.

  “No,” he answered softly. “It just felt right to be tender with you.”

“It’s uh… confusing.” I said. “It blurs the lines.”

He bit his bottom lip. “I see.” He sat down on the couch. I sat on the other end, not touching him.

“Seeing you around the office, smiling and acting like nothing is going on between us is hard,” he said. “I thought maybe this time I had a handle on things but…”

  “Yeah,” I agreed. I thought I had a handle on things, too.

  “I want to stop by your desk and talk to you, but people would notice me hanging around you. And people would gossip,” I thought back to the brunch I attended, when Candace and some of the other women had chattered away about those two people from Robotics flirting with each other. “And I know you want to keep everything a secret. So I stay away from you.”

  “Talk to me about what?”

  “Everything… I think you’re fucking brilliant,” he said. “I want to talk about the code you’re writing, the books you read, what you’re going to have for lunch, what you want to do this weekend.”

  “You can talk to me about that stuff here,” I said, confused.

  “It… blurs the lines,” he explained. I nodded. With that explanation I understood him. If we talked about anything other than sex in this setting, feelings would take root.  “I always want to hold you after, but…”

“It blurs the lines.” I repeated, finishing the sentence for him. Now he nodded. We sat for a while, neither speaking.

  “I’ll say the thing I’m not supposed to say,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “I like you, Cara. A lot.”

  “You do?” I was surprised.

  “That shouldn’t come as a shock to you. I think you’re beautiful, and I’ve always thought you were brilliant. I thought you were brilliant before I ever met you. You’re funny, and you’re kind. You’re honest, and yes, you’re very blunt, but I find that to be a bit of a turn on.  I think everything you do is a turn on. I’ve never met anyone who… makes me feel like you do,” he paused, letting out a long exhale. “I’ve got a reputation, I know.”

  “You do,” I said. “For being a rake.”

  “A rake?” He chuckled. “Are you comparing me to Mr. Wickham?”

  “Forsooth! He is a clever lad,” I replied. He laughed in earnest now.

  “Despite that, I hope that you could maybe like me, too. The first time, I kinda got the sense it was hate fucking, especially with your terms and conditions.  I thought you needed the release, and I was more than happy to give it to you, if it meant a chance to spend time with you.   And then…We started to have a really good time together, and I started to really get to know you. I was an idiot when I ended things… but now I think maybe…am I wrong? Is there something more here?”

  I bit my lip. He wasn’t, but I was afraid to say so, even now. I was afraid to say I liked him, too. Unfortunately, he took my hesitation for rejection.

  “I see,” he said, and he tried to hide the wounded look on his face by fiddling with the arm of the couch, but I didn’t miss it.

  “It’s not that I don’t like you.” I said. “I am afraid. Sleeping with you is one thing, because we can keep that private. But something more? I’m afraid of getting hurt, and I’m afraid for my reputation. It has real and far reaching implications for me if we…”

 “I know, but Cara, I wouldn’t let any harm come to your reputation.” He sighed again. “I want to be with you.  Really be with you. Date you.”

“You do?”

“Yes. I do.  I can see that you’re scared, and I suppose I only have myself to blame.  I’ve been playing this part for a long time.”

“What do you mean?”

“The reputation… The tabloids… It’s all a big show.  Well, it’s all a big show now,” He slid slightly closer to me on the couch.  “After my wife died, I was… not in a good place.  I did a lot of things to try to chase away my pain.  First I threw myself into my work, and when that didn’t fix it, I partied. I broke hearts. I made ruthless business decisions.  Anything to keep myself from grieving her loss.”  He paused, gauging my reaction. “But the last few years, it’s just a costume I put on.”

“Why?”

“That’s a story for another day,” he said. “I should go.”

“You don’t have to,” I said.  He pulled his shirt back over his head.

“I don’t think I can abide by the terms of the agreement after all,” he replied.  He kissed me lightly on the cheek, as he had done the last time he ended things.  Then, he picked up his toolbox and headed to the door.  My eyes burned and my throat was tight.

Say something.  Don’t let him walk away again.

“Wait,” I managed to choke out. His hand was on the doorknob, but he stopped, his back still to me. “It wasn’t hate fucking.” I stood up and crossed the room. He turned to face me.

“So, you like me, too?”

“As much as it pains me to admit.” I couldn’t say the words, not all of them, not yet. It was so much more that “like” – but what I did say was enough.  He scooped me up in his arms, kissing me tenderly again. He carried me back to the bedroom.

“Thanks for fixing the sink,” I whispered as we passed by the bathroom.

“Shut up and kiss me,” he replied.