The silence is deafening. All the board members still left were now dreading the high heel clicks coming down the hall. They all knew the confident stride of "Holly the Hatchet", and were wondering if they still had a job this Friday afternoon. She regularly turns confident men into cowering boys; as always, she makes a grand entrance.
"Gentlemen, I'm already running late for my flight so I'm going to make this short. Congratulations, you've survived phase one. I believe everyone left here has the potential to become one of the leaders I need to transform this division. With your help, we have already moved up two spots from last place in monthly numbers. Keeping in mind that motivated employees are our greatest asset, I need detailed plans from you to transform your departments. Sue will be calling you Monday to schedule times to meet with me individually when I get back Wednesday. Enjoy yourselves this weekend. You've earned it. When I get back, we have work to do. Meeting adjourned."
Holly is having a tremendously hard month. This Chicago location is by far her biggest challenge. It's so bad she's practically starting from scratch with firing lifelong company workers and reorganizing the whole production floor. She's literally showing bosses how to lead, the ones she thinks might have a chance. This last week has brought out the worst in her, truly earning her reputation. It's been so frantic she hasn't even been able to go out and have some fun; she has to force her daily runs into her demanding schedule. She desperately needs someone else to be in charge for once. She is so looking forward to having a break, to her weekend at home with her parents.
At O'hare airport she rushes. Running behind as always, to the terminal only to find that her flight is delayed, probably canceled. The more she tries to find another flight, the more flights get canceled. Midway airport is just as bad, and 2-hour cab ride to Rockford doesn't look promising.
"Can this day get any worse? Screw it. I need a drink."
~
Aaron looks out of the window of the VIP lounge at the airport, and mumbles under his breath, "Can this day get any worse?" The lake effect snow and freezing rain grows from a mere annoyance into a flight canceling storm. He contemplates getting a room as he sees the flurry of workers battle against the ice on the planes. His flight is not for another four hours, but there's nowhere else to be. He was supposed to be celebrating his victory. Now he's alone.
For the moment the bar is empty enough. A couple of people are talking at the far end of the lounge, but he is left alone to be with his misery. Nursing his drink, he recalls the day's failure. How he lost a big bid with a major customer. Trying to figure out what went wrong is killing him. Was it that off-color joke? Was he not understanding? Too aggressive?
His aggressive reputation has labeled him "the wolf", and got him several multi-million dollar contracts. Promoted twice in eighteen months, he is the man everyone has their eye on. A lot of hopes are riding on his shoulders. How is he going to recover from this and regain his reputation? The more he ponders this, the more alone he feels. He dreads flying back and facing corporate on Monday.
As the flight cancellations start increasing, the lounge starts filling quickly. Still, he uses his broad frame and body language to keep his distance. He looks up from his phone and glares at whoever sits too close. Through force of will, he isolates himself from and ignores the rest of the world. That all changes when she enters the room.
With a powerful click of her high heels, she commands a presence even he can't ignore. She's a taller, Italian looking woman, dressed to the nines and strutting in like she owns the place, suitcase in tow. Her ruby lips, olive skin, and a platinum necklace holding a big dark green emerald, are a sharp contrast to her all-black outfit. Her dress is strictly business, but accentuates her shapely curves, and shows just a hint of her ample cleavage. With a black coat draped over her arm, she scans the lounge disapprovingly. She struts toward the bar as she mumbles under her breath, "This will have to do."
She sits not far from him and asks, "Your flight canceled too, fucking storm?"
"Probably. I got here early to avoid the traffic. "What are you having?"
She gives him a quick once-over. He is huge. He sports the shoulders of a linebacker, and is hunched way back as his long legs isolate him from the bar. His dark brown Armani suit and power tie are matched with a gold Rolex and exotic hide shoes. Looking him in the face his Milano skin, and warm hazel eyes melt the annoyance of her canceled flight.
"Rum and Diet Coke."
She's drawn to his silent magnetism as he calmly whispers to the bartender, and orders the drinks. With a sarcastic grin and a huff, he hands over her drink.
"Where were you headed?”
"Back home. I need a break from this crap town. You?"
"Same. I had to hold the hand of a major client."
"Oh yeah? What do you sell?"
The conversation spirals from there. As the snow drifts and whaling sleet gets worse, they drift closer and closer together. The talk shifts form polite fake talk to bragging over their six-figure lifestyles. They now ponder why they look so familiar to each other. Perhaps a layover in L.A., a conference in Madrid? It doesn't matter.
Complaints about worthless meetings and making time to work out give way to a competition of one-upmanship. He brags that he has won the "Tuff Mudder" the last two years in Atlanta. She raced in an Ironman triathlon in Hawaii. He took the Polar Bear Challenge, she climbed Mt. Everest. She has a timeshare with spots in London, Corfu, Rome, and Hawaii. He owns a vacation condo in Fiji.
The chaos and panic of cancellations and new travel plans are ignored. There's a buzz growing at this corner of the bar. With laughing and banter at a sickening high, she scoots dangerously close. They are now practically in each others lap. She whisks her hair off her shoulders and brushes his arm to feel his muscles. Stealing glances of her sexy legs all night, he now rests his hand on her bare stockings. He gets no resistance, or even a hint of shock.
Without warning, he caresses her cheek with the other hand and steals her breath in a kiss. He stops long enough to say, "I'll get a room." A phone call is made, and he has just bumped someone out of the best room in a hotel about a mile away.
"Come on let's get out of here."
She is quick to respond with a smile, hopping off the chair before he even finishes his sentence. She stumbles a little causing them both to burst into laughter. He's quick to steady her, and hold her by the waist for support. Walking like he's been her man for years, he guides them outside to hail a cab.
Out side of directions to the cabbie, no words are spoken. He holds the door for her, opens the taxi, and casually puts her suitcase in the trunk. He barely sits down before she jumps in his arms. He immediately goes in for a deep, wet kiss; the kind that leaves her breathless. Heavy kissing continues as their arms are all over each other. His fingers are stroking up under the dress stroking the wetness under her panties. She starts moaning loudly, unzips his fly, and starts milking the pre-cum inside his silk boxers with one hand. Twitching and squirming she starts her high pitched screaming as the smell of her sex fills the cab. Arron notices how vocal she is.
Arriving at the hotel, he clears his throat and stiffens as they quickly break to make themselves presentable. Wiping the lipstick off his lips, he habitually fixes his tie, pants, and vest. She reapplies lipstick and fluffs her curly chestnut hair. Although it's not needed he opens the trunk and commands her.
"Now Holly, best behavior until we reach the elevator." He takes her hand, despite the fact that she's able to walk on her own.
At the hotel check-in is flawless, and he's the perfect gentleman walking them to the elevator, rolling her suitcase behind him. No sooner do the doors close, than he attacks, making her shriek and laugh. Kissing her madly, he undoes her blouse buttons and messes up her hair. She wraps a leg around him and giggles as the pace increases. Without warning, the elevator opens and he returns to his aloof demeanor as she buttons her blouse.
Rushing in their room, they take the briefest second to admire the room. There's a lit fireplace overlooking the hot-tub and full window view of the storm outside. A bar is fully stocked with one shot bottles of every booze imaginable, with cans of soda and juice in a fridge next to it. The illusion is romantically complete. Tonight belongs to these two lovers.
Coats and vest are instantly dropped as the necking continues. He possessively strokes her wetness through her soaked undies. Moaning loudly, she can barely contain her excitement. She takes his hand and spins for the bedroom. Before she can even take two steps he grabs her wrist and spins her back in his massive arms.
Smiling tenderly he sternly says, "I wasn't done."
She relents, now almost limp under his control. He tenderly grabs her backside and lifts her torso to his chest. As they kiss, she wraps her legs around his back. He unzips her dress as he walks them to the bedroom.
Gently placing her on her feet, he swoops the dress off her shoulders and lets it fall. He pulls her close by the neck to inhale her essence deeply as he unclasps her bra. Setting her on the bed, he adores her body in every way. Every curve, every line is kissed and caressed as he tenderly undresses her one article at a time, starting with her shoes and ending with her necklace.
"Ah, perfectly shaved, the way a good girl should be.”
Avoiding her hips and breasts he learns her other pleasure spots, tickle zones and places that make her melt somehow even more. By the end of this, she has goosebumps all over, is panting in heat, and is screaming again. She’s begging him to fuck her. He stands up and simply commands,
“Suck Me."
She rushes off the bed as he undoes his belt, rips his pants to his ankles, and grabs his hardening shaft by the base. As she sucks his tip, he reserves enough composure to remove his shoes and shirt. He reveals his chiseled torso, and her eyes go wide with desire. She rubs her hands over his six-pack as she licks him from balls to tip.