Just This Once by Evelyn Jeannie Hall

Nine

APRIL

Zane slumped back in his office chair and regarded his shiny mahogany work desk, every inch of which had been covered in various stacks of paperwork. Unbeknownst to him, his best bud had booked a last-minute extended honeymoon for his bride as a wedding present. Benjamin waited until he and Kat had been home for only a day to spring it on her, a two-week trip that would take them through the historic ruins of Greece, along the coast of Sardinia and Rome in Italy, to a castle up in Germany, and then past the famous vineyards over in France.

His wife had been totally abashed by all this, apparently, but also excited beyond belief. So, Benjamin had called Zane Saturday to inform him of the change. Then that following Monday, once the private jet he’d again chartered had fueled up, the couple had flown right back out of La Guardia. Meanwhile, there at Farrell, Torres, and Morrison, Zane had become swamped up to his eyeballs. Because the office had already been closed for a week, all their clients had been chomping at their bits, and Zane alone had to cover all the bases.

They had a couple of analysts who served as grunts answering the phones and fetching coffee. Yet other than going to Starbucks first thing in the morning and piling up dozens of rainbow sticky notes’ worth of call back messages on his desk, they didn’t lighten his load much. As the only investment banker in attendance, Zane had to put out all the major fires by himself.

Had it not been for the efficiency of Rookie, Zane never would’ve survived that first day back. Technically, the man was Kat’s personal assistant, but she’d also been training him in many of her CPA duties. While he still couldn’t go beyond the most rudimentary of tax filings, he could fill out certain forms and plug numbers into spreadsheets until Kat came back to complete them. Even with all that, though, the workload had spiraled beyond what the two of them could do in eight hours. That was why Zane and Rookie had both stayed way past their customary departure times all week.

Zane didn’t mind working sixteen-hour stints on occasion but doing it every day became a grind. And despite putting in all those extra hours, he’d gotten so behind on returning messages and emails that he didn’t know if he’d ever catch up, even after Benjamin and Kat returned.

He’d never felt the truth of “Thank God it’s Friday,” more in his life. A glance at his watch informed him of the time—five past eight—and he had to force himself not to be surly to his final client. Their two entry level people, Dirk and Debbie had gone home at five, leaving he and Rookie to pick up the rest of the slack. His own personal cell had been ringing off the hook all day, but he’d ignored it. He hadn’t had the time or wherewithal to deal with anything other than work emergencies.

Zane decided he would call an employment firm first thing Monday. He had to hire at least a few more banking associates who could do more than take a damn message. They also needed a qualified vice president of accounts. Since he and Benjamin were functioning as managing directors and Kat was the head certified public accountant, that should set them up with a better structure going forward. As much money and as many transactions as they were dealing with now, it made sense anyway.

When Rookie materialized to lean against his doorjamb, he looked as bedraggled and worn out as Zane felt.

“You gonna ask Kat for a raise when she gets back?” he asked Rookward.

“Freaking yes. If I’d known this was going to be Hell Week, I would’ve called in sick.”

“If you’d have called in, I would probably be over at that wall crashing my head straight through it.” Zane pointed at the exposed brickwork.

Like many of the refurbished buildings in that section of Manhattan, this one had been a factory once upon a time. When Benjamin had bought the property, he’d asked the contractor to keep as many of the original architectural details intact as possible. It was a testament to the spirit of New York, not that Zane cared much about that history at the moment.

“Are they seriously staying gone for an additional week?” Rooked inquired, and Zane let his skull drop forward and his eyes close.

“Yes.”

“I don’t know how we’ll get through another week like this one.”

Zane didn’t know, either. Even if he was able to get some new hires in here, chances were the next five workdays would still be totally insane. Thank Christ they were closed every weekend. All he could think about was grabbing the briefest of showers and dropping face first into his pillow. He might just stay there in bed all day Saturday and Sunday. Well, he’d need to eat before then. But other than that…

Zane’s personal cell went off for the hundredth time, this time with a text. He had so many people to get back to already—both his mom and his sister had left voicemails—and he pulled it from his pocket to at least see who it was. Lacey. It occurred to him that she might’ve sent him another tit pick, and the notion helped him rally.

“Rookie, just go on home, man. Thanks so much for all your hard work. I couldn’t have done it without you. Like, at all. And I’m gonna put a bee in Kat’s bonnet about that raise I mentioned for real. You’ve more than earned it.”

With a weary half-grin, the assistant did a sluggish about-face. Raising his hand once his back was turned, Rookward departed. Zane waited to hear him hop aboard the elevator, then descend. Once he was certain he had the place to himself, he checked his texting app again. Lacey had sent him five. He opened the one she’d sent a couple of hours ago first, hoping to find something sexy awaiting him.

Lacey: Well, it’s six and you haven’t called this off. Guess that means we’re on.

Shit! He squinted at his watch again. This was supposed to be their hookup night, and it’d utterly slipped his mind. He scrolled through the messages, taking note of the times. The next one had arrived about an hour and a half after the first.

Lacey: Hey, heading your way.

The third one came ten minutes ago.

Lacey: I’m here.

The fourth one seven minutes ago.

Lacey: Hello? I’m here outside your building. Can you let me in?

And the last one just now.

Lacey: Seriously? You had me come over here just to ghost me? Never thought of you as an asshole, Zane. You could’ve at least cancelled like a grown-up.

His finger had already hit her number as he bolted out the door, but he knew he’d fucked up big time. Hopefully, as soon as he explained she’d…

“You know, if you didn’t want to go through with this, you could’ve told me,” she answered in lieu of greeting.

“Sorry I’m just now calling—” But she didn’t let him finish his apology.

“I mean, I’ve only been hanging around in front of your apartment like some creeper for the past fifteen minutes. But it’s no skin off my nose whatsoever.”

The fury and sarcasm was high with this one, and he’d make it up to her if she’d allow him to get a word in edgewise… “I’m so sorry, Lacey, I really am, but I—”

She interrupted him again. “It’s super rude of you to treat me this way. I’ve been looking forward to this all week, and now that it’s here, you’re not interested. Which is fine. I mean, I have other options, but I thought we made a deal.”

“We do have a deal, and I’m not trying to be rude. It’s just that—”

“I thought I left this kind of shit behind in my twenties. Why didn’t you call? Or text? Or at least fucking email? I can handle rejection, you know. I’ve got my big girl panties on and everything.”

That phrase stuck out to him like a sore thumb, filling his brain with alluring imagery despite himself. His next ideas came more from his swelling groin than from his logical mind. What did big girl panties look like? Were they thongs? Bikinis? Were they crotchless? Please be crotchless.

“Zane, are you even on the phone anymore?”

He blinked, yanking his attention back to the matter at hand.

“Yeah, of course, I—”

She huffed out a noisy breath. “We started all this to have fun, and this is so not fun right now. I mean—”

“Fuck, woman, you gonna let me talk?” he interrupted her back, fed up. He wanted to fix this, but what had been left of his patience had fizzed away like Alka Seltzer tablets in water. If she wouldn’t listen, he’d give her a dose of her own damn medicine.

“Talk then,” she snapped at him.

He gritted his teeth. “What I’ve been trying to say is that I’m sorry. It’s been a madhouse here at the firm since both Kat and Benjamin are gone, so I’ve had to work super late every night this week. It’s been balls to the wall times fifty. I’m just now leaving work right this second, as a matter of fact. I don’t want to cancel our plans as long as you don’t.” Silence greeted him for several deafening heartbeats. “Lacey? Can you hear me?”

“I didn’t even think about their trip,” she admitted, her voice sheepish. “So basically, you’ve been doing the work of three people for the past five days.”

“Well…” That pretty much hit the nail on the head. “Yeah.”

“And I’m being a bitch about it.”

He hadn’t been in a relationship for years, but he knew not to touch that bad boy with a ten-foot pole.

“Zane?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for explaining.”

He released a chuckle, relaxing muscles he hadn’t even realized had grown tense. “No problem.”

“What do you want to do?”

He rubbed his eyes, torn. On the one hand, he felt dog-ass tired, but on the other, thinking about another night with Lacey had his dick rising willingly to the occasion.

“What I want is to plow into you till we’re both blind, eat some dinner, and go to bed tucked around your naked ass. Don’t care which order we do the first two.” Damn, that had probably been too much candor, but Lacey wasn’t going to be his girlfriend. She would be his fuck buddy, so he shouldn’t have to worry as much about sugar coating everything to make it sound more palatable. That was one of the best perks about their arrangement. Less pressure and a supreme lack of relationship bullshit. “You up for that?”

She offered him a tinkling melodic laugh, and he knew right there and then that everything would be okay, even if his shoulders continued to ache from a week’s worth of overwork and tension.

“Tell you what. I’m going to go get some takeout for us. Once I’m back, we can decide what order to follow from there.”

Lacey turned out to be as good as her word. She’d returned to his building right as he’d been unlocking the outer door, and they’d rode up to the fifth—and top—floor together. Laying their bags on the dark slab of his bar, they sat at his high brown leather barstools. She brought him Pad Thai with extra peanuts, just like he’d asked for, and when she opened the lid on her own food, he saw that she’d purchased the same meal. “You like Pad Thai?”

“Hope so,” she said, as she unpacked one of those white paper “thank you” bags restaurants used along with a cloth reusable one from a local supermarket.

He goggled at her. “You’ve never had it?”

“Nope.” From the grocery supplies she removed a box of wine.

“Ooh, classy.”

“It’s easier to transport. Also, I’ve had this pinot grigio. It’s not half bad.”

He believed her. Besides, in his lean days, the best drink he’d had was some light beer so cheap he and Benjamin had referred to it as a “pissner” rather than a pilsner. Zane dug in with his chopsticks and moaned as the sweet noodles and peanut-rich flavor hit his taste buds.

“Mmmmm… Jesus fucking Christ, that’s good. Thank you for bringing this. I mean that in all seriousness.”

He felt so famished that it took him a minute to absorb that Lacey wasn’t gulping the food down like him. Instead, she watched as he took bite after bite, taking her time spooling an individual noodle around her chopsticks while her other hand traced the diamond pattern imprinted into his bar. He paused to peer over at her. Lacey chewed leisurely, daintily, as her blue gaze regarded him. In fact, the turquoise of her irises seemed more navy, darker than usual.

They each took a sip from their wine, when all at once, Zane’s hunger transformed into the type that had nothing whatsoever to do with nourishment. He locked stares with her, straight up eye-fucking her. Then, moving the remnants of their meals off to the side, he pounced. Standing, he bent over and took her cheekbones in his hands, ravishing her mouth. She tasted of peanuts and wine, and he proclaimed to himself that other than her core, there had never been a better taste in the universe.

Lacey returned his passion with her own, sucking his tongue into her mouth with a fervency that stole his breath. All his fatigue suddenly gone, he repositioned her up onto his bar. He’d had the thing installed because it was the same height as a bar in an actual tavern, and call him macho, but he liked the idea of having such a masculine piece of furniture in his home. He considered plunging into her right there with the scent of Pad Thai hanging in the air when an even better notion occurred to him.

“I’d like to request something,” he said, pulling back from her and thinking on the fly. “I’ve always had this fantasy about having sex in this one specific place.”

“Sorry, Charlie, but I’m not doing the back door with you tonight. I’ll never say never, but I kind of feel like that goes above and beyond the whole friend with benefits contract…” she trailed off, and it took him a moment to realize she was referring to anal sex.

Anal.

Sex.

Holy fucking mother of shit.

“Jesus and hot damn, maybe we’ll revisit that later, but what I meant was doing it in here.” He took her hand and led her into his bedroom.

“Uh, well, bed sex is fine. What are you thinking? Doggie style? Reverse cowgirl? Some BDSM?”

He gaped at her. Why couldn’t all women be this sexually courageous? He tugged her over to his window seat. “I was thinking here.” She shrugged as if this was almost a letdown, but then he flipped a switch that raised the slatted blinds. “Against the glass of the windowpane.”

“You mean like if someone happened to look at just the right time, they could spot us?”

“Spot you. I want your tits facing outwards.”

He knew she might shut him down on this point. His building had five floors and his condo was at the top, which meant a much greater likelihood of someone seeing them than if they did this on say, the twentieth floor or above. Then again, his bedroom faced the park itself, so unless someone was out on a park bench with their binoculars aimed their way—totally possible, he had to admit—the chances of being detected were fairly slim.

“Lights on or off?” she asked.

“Either. Dealer’s choice.”

“As long as they’re off, I’m game.”

All their negotiations had dulled his raging hard-on a bit, but as soon as she’d said she was onboard, he sprang right back to full mast.

“You’re the best,” he told her, his mouth suckling her neck from behind, and she snickered.

“Bet you say that to all the girls you bring up here.”

He scoffed. “I don’t bring girls up here. My home is my sanctuary, which means it’s a no-fly zone for hookups.”

“But you brought me here as a hookup the first time.”

She was correct, and he didn’t know how this had never occurred to him previous to now. No matter. Lacey had been different, even if he couldn’t articulate the reason why. He bit softly into her earlobe as they stood there next to his window seat.

“True story.”

“So, I’m the only woman you’ve had sex with inside your condo?”

Zane nodded. “Cross my heart and hope to die.” He even made the actual X over his heart for her with one finger, which she grabbed.

“Well, you don’t have to go quite that far. I believe you.” She sucked that finger into her mouth, and even though it wasn’t the appendage he most wanted in there, feeling the soft wetness of her tongue against the inside of his index finger was still seductive enough to get him leaking.

He played with that seashell necklace of hers, dragging the flower shape of the five cowrie shells towards her collarbone. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen you without this.” Not even when he’d had her naked. She moaned then seized his hand to stop this motion as she answered him.

“It was my eighteenth birthday present from my mom. I try and wear it every day to remember her. Katrina’s is her charm bracelet and Elizabeth’s are her heart earrings.”

He drew his teeth along the top of her ear, hoping he hadn’t just opened some big can of worms with her. He knew from Benjamin that the triplets had lost their mother only a couple of years ago. Luckily, Lacey chose then to stick her tongue down his throat, effectively bringing him back to sex, sex, and only sex. He lifted her skirt—a colorfully patterned bohemian sort of thing—and groaned out loud. Once again, Lacey had gone without wearing any kind of underwear, leaving herself bare for him.

“So, no big girl panties?” he asked.

“You know how I feel about undies. Are you disappointed?”

“Fuck, no.”

Anxious to prepare her, he lowered his fingers between her legs, and his breath caught when he discovered her already wet and ready for him. As many lovers as he’d had over the years, he’d never known any woman who’d been as eager and responsive as Lacey Farrell.

It was such a goddamn turn-on. Everything about her was a turn-on.

Including how she didn’t act tentative about taking what she wanted, as evidenced by how she attacked his Adam’s apple with her teeth the second he’d touched her folds.

“I’ve been viewing your videos,” she told him, and she didn’t have to say which videos she meant.

“Oh, yeah?”

She nodded. “On repeat.”

“You like watching me get myself off?”

“God, yes. It’s so…” She heaved her shoulders upwards in this sharp rolling motion as she shivered from head to toe. It explained her meaning better than words ever could. “I used it to pleasure myself.”

He became as motionless as a statue at that image. Lacey rubbing her fingers along her clit as she watched him on her phone? Fuuucck. He wondered if his dick might rip through the fabric of his dress slacks like a samurai sword.

Pushing her backwards into the thick cushion of the seat, he crawled over her and latched onto her nipple right through her thin white blouse. When he found less resistance against his tongue than he’d been expecting, he looked down, surprised to discover that she wasn’t wearing a bra, either. His mouth had made the material transparent, allowing him to see the pink of her nipple peeking back up at him.

“That’s why I wore a jacket,” she explained as if reading his mind, sitting back up for long enough to gingerly unbutton and unzip his pants. “That way no one could see me jiggling around.”

This woman had hopped in a taxi from Brooklyn and ridden all the way across the city—and had even run some errands—without any undergarments. That had to be the absolute… Sexiest. Thing. Ever.

Seizing his wallet from his back pocket, he yanked out a condom only to have Lacey snatch the packet from his grasp, taking over. Ripping the foil with her teeth, she lowered her mouth to lap up a dollop of precum before rolling the latex along his length. For a second, Zane’s eyes rolled back in his head, and he had to breathe slowly to keep the tingles at the base of his spine from rushing these events to their end too quickly.

To prevent her from touching him, he lowered himself down to all fours. Tonguing her other nipple through her shirt until he’d attained the desired effect, he lifted her skirt to her waist, flipping her around and walking her forward on her knees. Once she was close to the window, he guided her up to the ledge that had been installed there, raising her a crucial couple of inches. He attacked her mouth, sucking on the tip of her tongue as he pressed the front of her torso to the glass. She, however, broke the kiss.

“Thought you wanted my bare chest exposed to the world,” she commented, but he didn’t reply.

He couldn’t explain why, but to him, this was even hotter. To any passersby staring directly at her, she’d appear clothed—in the strictest sense, she was—but they’d still see every bit of her breasts as clear as day. The thought drove him wild, so holding her by the hips, he positioned himself and dove into her sopping folds all at once from behind. Now, a voyeur could see them both. Dressed but still having full-on sex. Knowing that made him throb, and he thrust into her with absolute abandon, relishing the feel of the tightest part of her body surrounding his aching erection.

“More,” she mumbled as her entire frame jerked from his movements, each of her hands at shoulder height, the palms flat against the window. Clearly, this was turning her on, too. “More. Harder.”

“I got you,” he panted out brazenly, thrilled to follow her directive. Zane snuck his thumb between her left tit and the window to discover the chilled nature of the pane had made her nipple harder than he’d ever felt it.

“Move it,” she ordered.

“What?”

“The shirt. The skirt. All of it. I want to really be bare as you fuck me like this. Do it, Zane,” she spoke his name with that extra Z like he loved, and he obeyed her without hesitation.

With her naked body pressed against his outer glass for anyone to see, he surged into her over and over, feeling his need to release, his need for her escalating within him like an sudden storm. As if a lightning strike from that storm had streaked over them, they each moaned as their pleasure quickened at the same time. She must be as close as he was.

Then, he braced himself with one hand against the windowpane and pounded into her, pistoning his hips into hers in a rapid rhythm, as she met him movement for movement. With one last motion she pushed her hips forward, as if wanting her core to touch that glass, as if she wanted to be seen, and she clenched down around him like a vice.

“Oh, oh God,” she cried out.

Simultaneously, he muttered, “Ah, fuck.”

And just like that they were coming together, right there in front of the city. He rested his forehead against the cool vertical surface, watching as their breaths fogged up ovals on the glass. He glanced over at Lacey and wished he were outside right now, positioned below with the binoculars he’d thought about earlier, seeing her spread out like a banquet for anyone who wanted to look. Zane peered out into the semi-darkness of Central Park, his eyes seeking others. Finding none, he wrapped an arm around Lacey and pulled her down with him onto the thick mattress-like cushion, spooning her even as they craned their necks around to face one another.

“For God’s fucking sake,” she said, a dirty smile wreathing her features. They remained physically connected even now.

“My thoughts exactly.”

“Never would’ve guessed I would like that, but I did.”

“I could tell. After that, I may not be able to wait a whole week. I may need to come over to your bakery and defile you surrounded by sourdough bagels and apple turnovers.”

“What if the owner objected to your shenanigans?” She continued to beam at him, replete.

“Guess I’d have to take you out to the sidewalk and scare all those pedestrians instead.” They scrutinized one another for about three seconds before they burst out laughing. Since they hadn’t detached from each other, this sent pleasurable ripples through his dick and all the way up his spinal column. He loved it when that happened. “Something like that’d probably get you fired, even if your sister vouched for you as a dependable coworker.”

“Fired?” Lacey wheezed out, still doubled over with mirth. “That would probably get us both arrested.”

“Wouldn’t mind going to jail as long as I shared a cell with you, baby,” he said, then paused. That had quite possibly been the sappiest, cheesiest damn thing to ever leap out of his mouth. What was wrong with him? Sappy and cheesy weren’t his style.

He must be more fried than he thought.

And as soon as the word registered in his brain, he felt it, the dragging exhaustion that Lacey’s presence had temporarily taken away returned full force. He disengaged from her, fell over on his back beside her and onto a solid red throw pillow. He tied off the condom but didn’t get any farther than that.

“Wow, you look beat,” she observed, propping herself up on one elbow and trailing one of her fingers under his eyes. “Maybe I should go on home and let you get some rest.”

Christ, he didn’t appear that down and out. Did he? What they’d done had been fast and dirty, and while he felt the weight of his long week, he still felt far better than he had before he’d been with her. Lacey had sought out her shirt and started to throw it back over her head.

“Screw that,” he protested, snatching the wad of white fabric away from her. “Did you not hear the part earlier where I wanted to tuck myself up next to you?”

“I heard it,” she said, pushing back one of the copper curls that their minor kerfuffle over her blouse had made droop into her eye.

“Are you doubting me?”

“No.” Her hands dropped down to his still open fly, feeling his length while holding his gaze. One thing he could always seem to count on no matter what was that his dick would remain perpetually open for business. “Doubting you would be stupid, wouldn’t it?”

“Your words, not mine,” he said, aware of how cocky he probably sounded and not giving a shit.

Only then did it dawn on him that having her stay made less sense here at home than it did on the island. There, it’d been about debauching themselves throughout the wee hours and beyond, but here things felt a bit less playful. That had been a vacation romp, but now, they had work and a myriad of other obligations to attend to. Did he have the right to ask her to sleep over?

“Elizabeth will notice if I’m gone all night.”

“You’re right,” he agreed, nodding and feeling… reluctant. Was what that all about? He stared straight ahead, and since she was so much shorter than him, that meant they didn’t make eye contact. “Maybe I shouldn’t have requested that. It’s not a part of our deal.”

“Hey,” she reached up and touched his chin until he glanced down at her. “We’re friends, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I know it’s friends with bennies. Fuck buddies or whatever. But that doesn’t mean I can’t stay over if you’d like.”

“You don’t have to—”

“Shhh. I want to.”

She curved her rosebud lips in that way that emphasized her beauty mark. It was such a sweet and thoughtful expression. Lacey slid to her feet and vanished from his bedroom. She came back with her giant patchwork purse and reached into it, retrieving her phone. Then, he heard the swooshing sound that indicated a sent text.

“What’d you do?”

“Sent a message to Elizabeth telling her I had a hot date and would be spending the night. That’s my normal protocol. I wouldn’t even go that far, but we try to keep each other apprised of what we’re doing for safety’s sake.”

Cool. Sounded good to him. “That’s wise.”

“Can’t be too careful.” She set her purse down and phone in hand wandered back into the kitchen, still delightfully nude. Curious, he zipped up and followed her, only to discover her closing up the food cartons on his bar. Unwilling to let her do that, he stopped her and took over, placing the leftovers in his fridge. Her phone chirped. “Dammit.”

“What?”

She showed him her screen.

Elizabeth: Thought your first economics lesson with Zane was tonight.

“Is she on to us?” he asked her.

“Hold on,” she put her index finger up in a “wait a minute” gesture. Then, she spun her screen toward him again.

Lacey: He cancelled on me until next week, so I went out. Don’t wait up.

“Sneaky,” he observed, and she scowled at him.

“I’m going to have to avoid this topic with her. Keeping the truth from her or Katrina is next to impossible, even though I’m better at it than either of them are.”

“You sure you want to go through with this?” He didn’t want to dissuade Lacey but making her outright lie to her sister didn’t sound like something sustainable. Especially considering how close-knit they were.

Yet Lacey being Lacey only smirked at him. She affected an accent that might’ve been an attempt at old world British. “Not to worry. Now, good sir, if you would be so kind, please escort me to the palatial environs of your bed chamber.”

Shaking his head at her while holding out his arm like they were walking the Red Carpet, he did just that.