Sex, Lies and Her Impossible Boss

FOUR

Patricia Fellows was the kind of woman that you expected to be inside her cosy family home baking cakes. She was round and jolly and constantly cracking dad jokes.

Cash glanced at Faith. If she thought he was going to sit in this woman’s backyard and have her bring him to orgasm with her energies—she was mad. And he was done.

He’d been willing to humour Faith. He wasn’t sure why. Perhaps it was the thought of her leaving. She was the only person he knew who could sit him down, shut him up and fascinate him for longer than two minutes. And he didn’t want her to go.

But her show had to. It wasn’t right for the station and it wasn’t bringing in the advertising dollars it needed to stay feasible. But she was right—her ratings were good. The viewers did enjoy the show. His mind flickered over the options. Perhaps the production team needed some help with direction. Maybe it was the script that needed work.

Wait. No. He didn’t want to keep the show on. He needed more advertising dollars. Sport. That was what brought in the big bucks. Cash twisted his neck from one side to another. Faith was trying to sell him something he didn’t want to buy. From now on he was going to make a concerted effort to not listen to her.

‘Golly, you’re a handsome boy,’ gushed the elderly woman brandishing an incredibly long red stick with tassels each end. Cash stepped back. He didn’t know what she was planning on doing with that stick, nor did he have any intentions of finding out.

‘This is my boss. Patricia, Cash Anderson.’

‘Gosh, if I had a boss like that I’d come to work dressed in nothing but a pair of very tiny black panties every day.’

Right. This was uncomfortable. Especially as Patricia was now licking her lips as she looked at him. As if he were a particularly juicy set of BBQ ribs and she hadn’t eaten in a week.

‘I might just sit this out and watch.’

‘No! No. We don’t normally get ones who look like you here. You will be the star of the show!’ Cash now knew how Hansel and Gretel must have felt.

‘Actually, Cash is only here to observe,’ said Faith firmly. She glanced at him and smiled. A playful smile he felt deep down. ‘He’s still learning.’

‘Oh.’ The disappointment was obvious in Patricia’s tone. Her eyes turned frosty. ‘Sit over there,’ she demanded, waving her stick.

A few other people had started to arrive. Mostly middle-aged couples named Barry and Sharon who all seemed to know each other. Faith received a lot of handshakes and hugs and everyone seemed to know who she was. They were all fans of her show. She managed their gushing well, he thought. She answered their stupid questions, laughed at their awkward jokes. Then she stepped back as the session began.

‘Tantra brings harmony to all parts of our lives,’ began Patricia as she started handing out silk kaftans. The men and women in the circle seemed to know what to do and immediately start to strip off, replacing their clothes with the kaftans. Cash shifted his feet and tightened the grip on his folded arms. This wasn’t what he signed up for. He had no interest in watching a few horny old men shake their willies about.

Faith leaned in. ‘Don’t worry. You won’t see anything.’

He glanced at her. She moved a little closer, as if pressing her arm against his would reassure him, but he didn’t feel reassured. He felt uncomfortable and now aware of the woman next to him. A woman who was making his life difficult at the moment by not agreeing to move on to something else and allowing him to shut down her show. It was what the station needed and he’d find her something else—he liked having her around. For once he didn’t feel so numb.

Faith smiled. He noticed how bright her eyes were. Blue and a little sparkly in the sun. And her teeth; white and straight. She was gorgeous, too gorgeous. But a little bit bonkers. Just don’t listen to her, he reminded himself.

‘Tantra is about respecting and harmonising our bodies, our souls and our hearts.’

His attention was dragged back to the circle of people whom Patricia was now directing to sit next to their significant others—their arms touching—just as his was touching Faith’s. He held steady. Faith was attractive and she had a great body. Why couldn’t he touch just a little? They weren’t at the office and nothing was ever going to happen between them. He’d told her in the car they were just two people enjoying the sunshine. What was the harm in thinking that for a few minutes? A few minutes’ escape before he went back to the real world. Before he became numb again. He heard the twittering of birds in Patricia’s garden and felt the warmth of the sun on the back of his neck and allowed his shoulders to relax a little.

‘First, we start with pelvic floor muscle exercises. This strengthens the grip of your “yoni”—the part of a woman’s body that makes her a sexual being,’ explained Patricia as she wandered between the couples, her voice becoming softer. ‘Making it more pleasurable for the man’s sexual core—his “lingam”.’

Nothing too weird yet. Most people had their eyes closed, a few were whispering to each other—but as their pelvic muscles were packed away safely behind their kaftans, Cash was happy to watch.

‘Now it’s time to turn to each other and tell each other what makes us happy.’

The couples started murmuring and Patricia looked up.

‘You too, Faith. I’ve told you before you can’t come if you’re not going to join in.’

Faith’s blue eyes swivelled to his. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered. ‘But Patricia thinks I’ll make everyone uncomfortable if I don’t join in. I usually come alone to do my research but seeing as you’re here...’

‘It’s fine. You can tell me what makes you happy.’ Strangely there was a pull inside him that wondered what did make her happy. Faith was always busy, always running. She seemed to be searching for some kind of answer and he was beginning to wonder exactly what was the question.

‘We should sit.’ She sat cross-legged on the grass. Cash shifted his body down. Too many years of bone-crushing rugby meant there was no way in hell he’d be able to sit cross-legged, but he managed to prop one knee up and spread the other out before he realised he had her encased within his legs. She looked small sitting there. Her hair was down and curled around her shoulders and her light skin glowed in the sunshine. Something else pulled at him—but he ignored it. Not the time. Not the place. Definitely not the girl.

‘So what makes you happy, Cash?’

‘Patricia said you had to join in, not me.’ Cash didn’t want to talk. He had a tendency to be too honest sometimes and he wasn’t about to let Faith in to anything going on in his head. She’d be shocked when she found out what he was really like.

‘Go on, it won’t hurt.’ She smiled and Cash sighed, shifting on the hard ground. Why did everything have to be so difficult? There was a simple solution to his current programming issues. Can the sex show, rejig the breakfast news programme and introduce the new sports show. But he’d promised Faith he’d let her try and prove herself to him. Although he knew she wouldn’t be able to change his mind. He knew all about his stubborn streak; it was why he was making more money than he’d imagined he ever could and heading towards the top of the TV game.

‘What makes me happy? Surfing. Steak.’ He looked into Faith’s eyes. ‘Silence.’

Faith’s lips didn’t smile, but her eyes did. Something about them held him steady, unblinking. They were such pretty eyes and she watched him so intently, as if she was trying to read his mind by looking inside his eyes. He shifted a little again and then felt her hands on his knees. The warmth of them made him still.

‘Relax,’ she said quietly, her voice dripping in that honey warmth he recognised. ‘No one’s judging you here.’

The sun on the back of his neck instantly burned. He rubbed at it. She was wrong. He was always being judged. Everyone was. That was just the way it went.

‘I like quiet too,’ Faith began, removing her hands from his knees. Relief ran through him and he rested his hands behind him, still watching her though. Watching her watch him. ‘I like to sit and listen. You know?’

He didn’t, but he liked to listen to her talk. Her accent was cute. Posh, but every now and again her lips would curl as she manoeuvred them around a word and a strange broad accent would creep in.

‘I like to just listen to the wind or the sounds below my bedroom window and switch off. Pretend I’m a cat and I can just sit and watch, then slink away when I want—where no one will find me.’

‘You want to be a cat?’ How was it that she could always say something that surprised him?

She laughed, her eyes crinkling and her teeth flashing in the sunlight. ‘Sometimes. How about you? Have you ever wanted to be anything else? Anyone else?’

Cash thought about that. He thought about his brother. Yes. For years he’d wanted to be someone else.

‘No.’

‘I wish I were as brave as you.’ Faith’s smile faltered, her eyes falling.

‘I’m not brave.’ He was a coward; he knew that, but no one else did. No one beyond his home town of Warra Creek anyway.

‘Yes, you are. You say what you have to say. You do what you have to do. You don’t worry about what anyone thinks of you or what might happen. You’re fearless.’

He watched her as she spoke. Something about her had him transfixed. He shook it off. Anyone would like to hear someone talking about them like that. It was just his weak little ego wanting a boost, that was all—which was what had happened when he fell in love the last time. She’d boosted his ego. But that was nine years ago—his ego didn’t need boosting any more. He didn’t need anyone trying to make him feel better about himself. He didn’t need anyone.

‘I’d call that being pig-headed, not brave.’

Faith laughed and the change in her face was instant. The wide smile transformed her face and he felt something pull at his chest. How long had it been since he’d made a woman laugh? Not simper. Not flirt with him. But laugh, out loud in the sunshine.

‘I think you might be right there. But still. I’d love to be myself and not worry about what anyone thinks. I’d love to be brave like that.’

She was still smiling and he supposed that was the reason he felt a smile pull across his own face. He supposed that was why he wanted to talk.

‘You are brave, Faith. You travelled across the world to start up a show that could have made you a laughing stock. But you did it. And you’re here now. Proving yourself, standing up to me.’

‘Is that brave, or just foolish?’

‘A little of both maybe. But you’re doing it. You’re not running away.’ Not as he had.

‘Thank you, Cash. I think that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.’

Cash raised his eyebrows at her. ‘That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to you? You need to find some new friends.’

His joke didn’t make her laugh. She broke her gaze and although her body didn’t move he could feel her pulling away.

The murmuring of the other people and the sounds of the birds started to get louder. He shouldn’t have said that. He had a habit of saying the first thing that popped into his head, a habit he’d found hard to break over the years, but usually he managed to achieve it. There was something about Faith, though, that made him want to talk. That made him think he could trust her. He should have known better.

Just when he thought Faith was going to get up and walk away from him, she leaned in again. ‘People don’t usually say nice things to me because I don’t often give them a reason to.’

Cash stopped. What did that mean? He wanted to know more, he wanted to say more but he didn’t dare. He might say something else to upset her and today—here in the sunshine with her sitting between his legs—he didn’t want to upset her.

Patricia was coaching again. Telling everyone to move their bodies, welcome the light through their pelvis. The people in the circle started to move in strange ways, lifting their hips and opening their arms. He hoped Faith wasn’t expecting him to do that. Not only would his body probably refuse but it all seemed a little stupid to him. This wasn’t sex. This was a whole load of rubbish about feelings and emotions. Sex was about sex. Pleasure. Rock hard, pounding, sweaty pleasure. End of story.

‘Tantric sex is all about deepening the connection you have with someone,’ Faith murmured from her position on the grass. He didn’t turn to face her. He wished she wouldn’t use the words sex and deepening in the same sentence. Especially not with that voice she had. The one that dipped from high and sweet to low and throaty in seconds. ‘It teaches you to make love rather than just have sex.’

‘Why would you want to do that?’ This time he did look at her. He met her gaze directly and let his words seep in. Again with the honesty. But this time she didn’t fall back; she actually leaned in closer.

‘Doesn’t it feel good? To make love rather than just “have sex”?’ The way she asked had him puzzled. She was looking at him intently as if waiting for an answer. But she already knew the answer to the question. Either way it felt good. That was why everyone did it. Over and over, generation after generation. Because it felt good. He wondered what it would feel like with Faith. Would it be fast and passionate or slow and sensual?

As his imagination started to take over Patricia started giving orders again and Cash was glad for the break in the atmosphere. He pulled his hands up from the grass and planted an elbow on his knee, avoiding Faith’s eyes again. He was sure Faith was one of those women who mistook lust for love and always wanted more than a man was willing to give. He usually steered clear of women like Faith, preferring those with...simpler tastes. At least he did now. That way there was no danger of feeling anything he didn’t want to.

The couples in the circle shoved and shifted, their knees cracking in the air while their ample tummies made difficult the manoeuvre Patricia was now asking them to make. Cash watched, bemused, from his spot on the grass for a moment before Patricia’s voice rang out across the garden.

‘Faith! I need you.’ Faith jumped up suddenly and held out her hands.

‘What do you need, Patricia? I’m all yours.’ Her voice was high again, and she spoke a little too quickly.

‘Straddle that friend of yours over there. I need an example.’

Cash stilled. Straddle him? Faith turned. She wasn’t smiling.

‘I can’t do that, Patricia. He’s my boss.’

‘All the more reason. This technique will teach you to communicate better. You’ll learn how to listen to what each other needs rather than just talking over the top of one another.’

Cash wondered what Faith would do. She looked nervous, unsure. Slowly and tentatively she moved closer.

‘I’ve been ordered to straddle you,’ she said with an embarrassed smile.

‘No, sorry.’ He looked around Faith to Patricia. ‘I’m not dressed for straddling.’

‘Nonsense. Get on top of him, Faith.’

Faith looked mortified and Cash felt guilty. About what he’d said earlier and about the fact that he’d made her do this. All she wanted to do was prove herself to him; he owed her a fair chance. ‘Come on, Faith, you may as well hop on. What could it hurt?’ She looked so frightened he had to do something to reassure her. He lifted his arms. ‘I only bite if you’re bad.’

FIVE

Faith laughed nervously and moved to stand with one foot either side of his legs.

‘Are you ready?’ she asked, her voice high.

The jeans she had on were tight and they followed the curve of her hips and clung to her legs. Cash lifted his hands and placed them on the outside of her thighs.

‘Ready,’ he said, his eyes not leaving hers.

She started to lower herself, coming closer, and his eyes moved to her stomach where her T-shirt didn’t quite meet her jeans, exposing a pale sliver of skin that made the hairs on his arms stand up. His hands slid higher and her hands eventually landed on his shoulders. He tensed and she moved them a little as if caressing his muscles. Everything on his body went hot. For a second he forgot where he was and that there were a dozen eyes on him. All he could feel was her softness and all he wanted was to feel her in his lap.

His eyes landed on hers as her breasts came into view. They moved down, past his forehead, past his nose and then his lips. Her nipples were standing to attention. He clenched his gut, bit his tongue and moved his hands to her hips, easing her onto his lap. Her hips fitted right into his hands. She felt right there. As if that was where she was meant to be and all he wanted to do was pull her down on top of him. Feel her warmth covering him. She moved further down until he could feel her hot breath on his forehead.

Then her eyes were level with his and she was sitting on him. Her eyes opened wide. She shifted. She felt it. He felt it. He wanted her to feel it. She shifted again, getting comfortable and her breathing hitched. Her eyes moved to his mouth and all he could feel was her and all he could think about was her. Sitting on his lap, her hands resting lightly on his shoulders, breathing heavily so close to him. His head thumped. His lap throbbed. She sucked in a breath and held it before her eyes moved to his. Electricity shot between them. Her eyes that were so dark yesterday were now lighter. Almost the colour of a blue summer sky. Beautiful eyes. He moved his hands up until he felt the curve of her breast touch the top of his thumb. She let out her breath and parted her lips and he let his hand still, right beneath her breast.

‘Exhale, Cash, exhale!’ Patricia was saying something but he couldn’t hear it properly. All he could hear was Faith’s breathing as it changed and became heavier.

‘Exhale,’ murmured Faith. ‘She wants you to exhale. Into my mouth.’

‘What?’ His voice came out all croaky and deep. What was she saying?

‘Breathe out,’ she whispered. ‘As I breathe in—you breathe out.’ He breathed out, letting his breath go in between her parted lips, then she breathed out and he felt the rush of hot hair go into his own mouth. His other hand moved around to her back. She was only slim and his hand took up most of the space on her back. He pushed her closer to him, letting his hard shaft get more comfortable. He ran his fingers through the soft hair that ran down her back and breathed out again, keeping his eyes on her lips. She shivered beneath his hands. Something was happening. Something that should not be happening. Not here in Patricia’s garden.

Definitely not with Faith.

Cash moved his legs. He could feel her warm against his erection. It felt incredible. Not just like a beautiful woman sitting in his lap but something else, something much more intimate. She breathed out again and he sucked in her air, wanting to feel her closer, wanting to draw those full lips closer. She shifted and he shifted to allow her to get more comfortable but right then her head snapped up as if waking up from a sleep. She let out a noise and jumped up quickly. So quickly her head hit the bottom of his jaw and he tasted blood as his tooth went through his lip.

‘Damn!’ He gritted his teeth.

‘Cash! I’m so sorry. Oh no. You’re bleeding!’

Cash lifted a hand and held his mouth. When he pulled his hand away it was full of blood. His lip throbbed.

Cash swore loudly.

‘Oh, dear. Oh, no. Let me get you something to clean that up.’ Patricia was close and she was fussing.

‘It’s all right. I’ll live.’ He got to his feet and wiped his chin. Blood was still pouring out. He swore again but this time he kept it to himself. He should have known. He should have remembered. You don’t lose your head or someone always winds up getting hurt.

Patricia returned with a fistful of tissues and he pressed them to his mouth. His lip hurt, but his pride hurt more. She’d jumped up off him so quickly. As if she’d realised what she was doing and who she was with. For a second he’d thought Faith might have felt something, that there was actually something happening between them. But there wasn’t. She was faking it. For Patricia. For the show. Pretending to like him to get her own way.

His jaw hurt. He was hot and sticky and humiliated and all he wanted to do was return to the office. Get back to work. That was where he should be, not out here in someone’s garden thinking things he shouldn’t and feeling things he had no right to.

‘Are you all right?’ Faith’s voice was small and a little timid, which was unlike her. He didn’t want her sympathy. He knew she was doing her best to convince him that sex was more than just sex so he’d let her keep her show. But he wasn’t falling for that. Not again. Ever. ‘Do you want to stay?’ she asked.

No, he didn’t. He was cut and bleeding and angry.

‘I think we should go.’ He didn’t look at Faith. He didn’t want to see her face. Disappointed her scheme hadn’t worked. Desperately trying to make him get into all this to convince him to let her stay on. He reminded himself that this was work and Faith was an employee and that was all this was. He just wished his throbbing shaft would listen as it twitched in disappointment.