PARTNERS
I was starting to dread these Sunday Brunches. Timothy's bossing had gotten that bad.
I could understand his anxiousness, it is difficult to get any new business off the
ground, but had I known that Gina's friend was going to be such a stubborn guy, such a
hard-ass 'numbers cruncher', such a ... "Have you gone to so-and-so yet?" or "You said you
were going to call him Friday." type of partner I would have thought twice before trying
to open my bistro with the dark-haired man. I knew I could use the expertise of a good
accountant, every caution Timothy repeated was valid, but it was still exasperating
sitting across from the man while he scolded, cajoled and accused. I was getting sick of
his treating me like a little girl, helpless without his firm resolutions and quick
determination. It was time I showed Timothy what valuable asset I could bring to this
partnership.
"You were gonna show me those color swatches for the front tables," Timothy reminded
me, stopping to turn.
I thought I had lucked out. We had said our good-byes and were walking to our
respective cars – not, of course, without me turning to steal a glance at my
partner-to-be's high, tight ass. Once again I damned myself for finding this
pain-in-the-ass man so attractive and shaking off the moment, I realized as Timothy walked
to me that there never was a time when he didn't have "Oh, one last thing" to question me
about. Was I going into business with Columbo?
"I mean, we can't wait," he continued his dark brown eyes pleading. "We have to
get..."
"All right, all right," I sighed. "Follow me, I only live five minutes from here."
I had never invited Timothy to my house before, not that we really had any real reason
to go. We had been perfectly content to meet for our two-hour 'power-brunches', E-mail
ideas and talk on the phone. But now my luck was forcing a confrontation on my turf and
as I led the way in my little red sports car I realized that this could be the day I
proved some things to dear Timothy. A bubbling idea was forming in my mind, and maybe the
combination of the hot day, the slight spunk between my legs leading this man to my house
and all the months of resentment were building in me to a point I was actually considering
this evil plan.
Timothy was about to really meet his "partner."
The tall guy didn't disappoint me when we entered my home. True to form Timothy began
criticizing right away. Without an invite he walked across my thin living-room rug and
stood at my mini-baby grand. As he pushed the keys the sound that replied caused him to
stand bolt upright.
"Oh God, a beautiful piano like that and it's not tuned?!" the tall man spat as I
closed my front door.
God, he had no idea how perfect this all was. My front door shut and locked, Timothy's
little cutting remark and the pretty picture of him bending to my piano. I could not
submerge this picture of delightful torture in my mind ... not that I would have. Like a
stalking cat I stepped to my guest and began, softly, "You are the most spoiled, demanding
man I have ever met! Your mommy just spoiled you rotten huh?"
I stopped speaking as the tall man stood and turned fully to me. Looking down Timothy
smiled that ingratiating broad grin I was all too well aware of. He often fixed waitress,
bank managers, me, anybody he felt worthy of his bemused take on the world with this
half-cocked smile. Today though, he would pay well for his smirk and 'tude.
"Look..." I continued. "...we are partners. That means we are equal. That means we
share ... but you act like you are the owner and I'm just one of your workers."
"I..." the big man tried smiling down at me.
"Today I'm going to teach you a little respect," I finished, breathing as slow as I
could manage. "Or this partnership is over."
"I..." Timothy tried again.
He knew he needed my expertise as much as I needed his. The last thing he wanted was
to lose me. Not that any fear crossed Timothy's unlined face then, but I did catch a
sudden faltering in his deep eyes, a slight hesitation in his broad shoulders as he stared
down at me. "I value our partnership," he replied.
"Good," I said. "Then it's time for a lesson."
"March up those stairs," I ordered in my sternest voice – or as best I could manage –
standing back from him.
For a minute Timothy just stood there – probably as shocked by what I had said as I was
that I had said it – his head still bent to me. Then the man simply turned from me,
crossed the living room resigned. Up my ten stairs he walked, me behind, both of us
knowing that whatever happened next, I was in control! Was I in control?
I guess maybe we both were attracted to each other after all.
"My room's the..." I started as we stood on my second floor landing. The picture I had
in my mind, the circumstance, the whole plan was suddenly turned up over-end as one simple
and perfect thought struck me. I stopped myself to bark new orders at Timothy:
"We're gonna take a shower."
My stairs end literally at my upstairs bathroom. Timothy peered over his shoulder and
without a word walked straight into my tiny green-tiled bathroom.
"Go ahead, I'll be there in a second," I said as Timothy smiled over his shoulder and
closed my bathroom door.
Good, now I had a few minutes to think. Timothy assumed the lesson I was about to
impart was me being a sexually aggressive woman. There was no denying the heat between
us, and now he knew I was damn well interested beyond his business acumen. I guess he
just assumed, a tall handsome guy like he was, that sooner or later all women would fall
for his spell and we best get the sex out of the way so we could continue business.
But that wasn't exactly what I was planning.
Standing in the hall, hearing the water running, I peeled off my black jeans but left
my long, cream-colored button down shirt on. After placing my two-inch heels back on my
feet I checked myself in the hall mirror and had to smile at my reflection. There I
stood, the very top of my thigh-highs just peeking through the short sides of my tailored
shirt. I knew my 'look' would provide just the right amount of tease to torture Timothy.
This entire scene was so sexually charged and I was more than a bit wet standing there
thinking about what was about to happen ... or what I hoped I had the guts to make happen.
I was fantasizing about Timothy's lean trim body in my steaming shower, but what was
delighting me even more as I tried to slow my breathing, was the idea that this
oh-so-in-control man, this seeming confident control-freak was about to meet his match in
a most devilish comeuppance. What was best still was I knew in Timothy's cocky mind he
thought I had ordered him up these stairs for sex.
"Hey," Timothy said as he heard me enter the bathroom.
It was all I could do not to stare through the high steam, not to peer longingly
through the mottled plastic of my shower doors. I could see his sinewy distorted frame,
his dark skin, hair, his entire body wet on the other side. I wanted to gaze at every
inch, commit to memory the naked body of this man I was about to teach a lesson to.
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