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Trivial Pursuits Ch. 01

By: titania123



Dear Readers,

Welcome to my latest story! Sorry it has been such a long time since I've produced something new, but here it is at last. I hope the wait was worth it. A word about this story: It is novel length. It is about half completed. I plan to release a chapter every few days. It builds slowly. I plan to publish it after I've given you a chance on Literotica to read it.

As always, I would appreciate to hear back from you, good or bad, and please rate if you are so inclined. And to reiterate, it does build slowly, so if you're looking for something 'quick' move on and come back in a few chapters ;)

Enjoy!

Titania



Trivial Pursuits Ch. 01



But not all. She was tucked away deep in my mind, and my regret ate away at me a little more each day.

**********





Trivial Pursuits Ch. 01



"Yes, besides the obvious," his eyes were cutting into her, daring for a reaction.

"Well, I have already discussed my internal drive, top-class work, superior research skills. And I would say the discipline to use tact and the ability to respectfully defer to my superiors, but if I said that, I have a feeling I am about to make liar out of myself."

"You find it hard to use tact?" an almost smile playing at his lips, enjoying the angry spark in her blue eyes.

"At times, especially when I am the only one in the conversation doing so," she retorted bitingly, disbelieving how horribly this interview was going. None of her previous interviews had been anything beyond the utter professional encounter one would expect, and so she could only sit and stare at him, aghast at how awfully he was behaving, effectively ruining her chances to work in the one law firm she wanted. She was beginning to feel her dreams slipping through her finger, when not a month ago she had had all confidence in Mr. Burton's promise to her.

When he had no immediate response to dig, she pressed on. "If I may follow your lead and ask a bold question, will you please tell me what I have done to earn such animosity from you? Is there something about me that offends you? Because I cannot for the life of me understand why you are being so antagonistic. Or is this your method for easing my nerves as you had promised?" Her pretty mouth was set in a hard, displeased frown.

Denny's first reaction was to tell her exactly what she had done, to accuse her of beating him in trivia, of being so highly confident and unattainable, and to openly blame her for being too young for him when they first met. Denny looked at her hard. But when all of her great sins were listed out before him, he recognized them for what they were: excuses for his insecurities and deplorable behavior. And with that realization, all his hostility melted away as he knew that in all their interactions, he had been the only one to behave in a manner worthy of reproach. And with his bitterness cleared, he felt in its wake that first, initial attraction towards her that had been there from the moment he saw her legs in those running shorts.

But now, as he stared intently at her and her expression of anger mingling with hurt, he was uncertain how to proceed, how to gain what he truly wanted, if indeed that was even possible at this point. But the more he studied her, the more he knew exactly what he wanted and the more his resolve grew to get it, regardless of complications.

He sighed. "Have I really acted so horribly?" he asked with a soft, defeated smile. He leaned forward, placing his forearms on his desk, clasping his hands. "Ms. Allen," he began humbly, "if I have said or acted in any way you find unjust, unprofessional, and/or offensive, I truly apologize. It is wrong for me to project any of my personal issues onto you, and I can assure you, my attitude heretofore does in no way reflect your appropriateness for this position and will have no bearing on my decision to hire you for said position. If you were hurt or offended by my words, behavior, or attitude, again, I sincerely apologize. Now, if you are still interested in the position here, let's discuss law. Shall we?" he asked invitingly, hoping.

Alessa wasn't fooled by his apology. He was an intelligent and successful lawyer. He undoubtedly saw his behavior as grounds for harassment or at the very least unfair hiring practices. She ignored the small pulse of disappointment that his change of heart had nothing to do with his heart, choosing to push it down and not question its origin or significance. No matter his reasons for his attitude change, she knew this was her chance to make a last-ditch effort to secure a position with the firm. She didn't smile, but her expression didn't bare any enmity. "Very well," she replied at last, nodding her head, "let's discuss law."

Over the course of the next hour the two argued, not with any animosity, but over matters of law, several of them examples from Denny's own career in which she disagreed with a particular course, or wording in a document, or interpretation of a ruling. He found her perspective on certain topics to be refreshing, if not entirely practical, but he knew those were things she would learn only through experience. He was also impressed by her clearly thorough knowledge of his own career, even if she expounded upon specific errors he had made. It demonstrated excellent research skills, and he knew from her file she was a brilliant writer.

Of erotica as well. A particular scene in one of those stories she had written flashed into his mind before he could control it. He felt an answering rushing of blood to his groin and then all the rest seemed to drift away. He felt a spark deep inside come to life. It was hungry for fuel and she was his kindling. All he wanted at the moment was to know her, to spend his life peeling back every satiny, sultry layer until he found the core, to mine the deep-well of passion that was capable of penning such stories.

As their conversation was coming to a close, he began analyzing the situation in which he found himself. At that moment, all his other goals in life were taking a back seat to his one, new imperative: get under the skin of Alessa Allen. 

To give her the job or to not give her the job became the first question he needed to answer. On the one hand, he doubted she would accept a date with him, let alone allow him the very intimate access he craved, if he didn't hire her, and so the office was his greatest chance at spending time with her. On the other hand, it would be complicated wooing a fellow coworker. The undertaking would have to be done subtly and in secret as fraternization was severely frowned upon in the corporate world, especially so in the legal field. And atop that was the danger of running the knife's edge between pursuit and harassment, especially if she proved resistant, which seemed likely. 

He also realized it would be more than simply asking her out. What he knew from his past observations of her was that she was extremely closed off and not likely to be interested. He would have put her down as a lesbian, simply not interested in men, but the heterosexual nature of her erotic writings seemed to be evidence to the contrary. And yet, for unknown reasons, she chose to keep her passion hidden, caged. She was an enigma to be solved, a passionate nature to be cultivated. The undertaking would require monumental patience, observation, delicacy, and skill. She was an intricate puzzle to be understood and solved.

He smiled at her. Challenge accepted.

"Well, this has been an extremely entertaining hour," he said with obvious reluctance at having to end their time. "But I must regretfully beg deferment on that topic until a later date when all my time is yours." He watched her eyes widen ever so slightly, and then the most delightful pink heat her cheeks. "As it is, I have corporate by-laws I have to get back to."

She gave him a conceding smiled, and then looked down at her lap. When she cleared her throat and looked back up, her embarrassment was gone and her expression was merely pleasant. "Yes, well, I hope in some approximation I have met with your approval, demonstrated I can be an asset to this firm. Even if I do not have limitless depositories of tact," she said with a shy smile.

Denny returned her smile with a laugh of his own, before standing up to escort her out. "Indeed you have. And I'm rather glad you have some gumption. I'd hate for anyone to walk over you. I have one last applicant to see and then will turn my recommendation to the higher ups who will meet this Thursday. You should expect a call on Friday, either way. Thank you again, Ms. Allen; despite my earlier behavior, it has been a pleasure." He walked her to the elevators, unhappy to see her go, but excited to know he would see her again soon.

The rest of the day was lost to him as he could only think about her. The next applicant would have to be a Supreme Court Justice to get the position now: for, as far as he was concerned, Alessa Allen was the newest hire at Wiles, Mayer, and Schecter LLP.



Trivial Pursuits Ch. 02



Dear Readers,

Hope you have enjoyed the first installment of this story. This chapter is more character development and scene setting, so don't expect anything beyond that just yet. Thanks for all the votes and feedback. I always appreciate anything you have to say, so keep it coming.

A special thanks to alreadytaken, who has not only acted as my editor, but has given me great insight to the legal world to help this story come out more realistic.

Enjoy!

Titania

******

CHAPTER TWO





Trivial Pursuits Ch. 02



Alessa looked up to the smiling young woman who seemed to have boundless pep and charisma. Her first day on the job, Lou, who informed her that her full name was Louisa Rachel, but nobody called her that, had introduced herself between swearing at the espresso machine in the employee lounge. Within five minutes Alessa had unwittingly learned; not only her full name, but that she was from the U.K.; she didn't want to be a lawyer; moving to the states had been her only form of protest against her over-controlling parents; her father was black and her mother Indian; she had no religious affiliation; she was dating a skinny rocker who lived in Oakland; she had two cats, though one was possibly dying from cat diabetes; and she had a blog for fashion and hair, but really couldn't find the time to keep it as up-to-date as she would like given her heavy work schedule, which she charmingly pronounced as shed-ule. Her easy and open demeanor had been hard to dislike or ignore, as Alessa usually preferred, and so she instead begrudgingly tolerated the pretty sprite.

Alessa had been at first reluctant to be companions with one who wasn't interested in her own law career, but she quickly discovered that despite any profession of disinterest, Lou was cunning and actually enjoyed drafting some of the best contracts Alessa had ever read. She was also influenced by the Brit-tongued girl's encouragement of her own career, openly celebrating every small accolade Alessa received for her work. She found her cheerleading style almost disconcerting, given it was contrary to the intensely competitive nature of law school, but Lou's genuine, sweet personality overrode any mistrust that may have formed.

Alessa had already begun to suspect that her above-average performance was not going unnoticed, and with Lou's announcement that she was to join an actual team, she was quietly thrilled that the nature of her work was quickly being upgraded. "That's fantastic," she responded, keeping her enthusiasm strictly checked.

Lou gave her a comical, disbelieving look. "You could be a little excited. Hell, I remember I didn't do anything but research and memo writing my first six months here. It's a big deal Denny assigned you to this team."

At the mention of his name, Alessa sat up straighter, adjusting her position to take in information. "Mr. Ashbury? This is one of his clients? What sort of company is Mingo?"

"Oh, heavy equipment. You know, like construction equipment. They're based out of Lincoln-"

"Nebraska?"

"That's the one, but they're expanding big time, at least trying to, pushing to be a multinational company. They have offices in L.A., Munich, and now in Seoul. I think their goal is to compete with Caterpillar and Kubota," she offered nonchalantly as she gazed down at the orderly desk. It was clear to see that Alessa was heavily entrenched in her work, but that she operated in a clean and efficient manner; it was a stark contrast to Lou's own desk, which was piled high with numerous files and documents scattered haphazardly about. "I can't believe you get any work done," she commented with a tinge of disgust.

Alessa followed her gaze to her desk top. "What do you mean?"

"Only that my desk ever looked like this one time. And that was my first day here. Since then it's been buried under all my paperwork. I wouldn't be surprised if it went on vacation and didn't come back and I just haven't noticed," she joked.

"I don't know how you can get any work done with such a messy desk," Alessa countered, knowing her mind would be just as scattered as her environment if she didn't keep it tightly reined in. "I can't think straight when there's clutter. I have this unavoidable compulsion to clean it."

Lou gave a very unfeminine chortle at that. "At any rate, I came over to see if you fancied going out for lunch? Or did you pack your veggies again?" she asked coyly.

"Yes, I brought my own food. Not only am I on a budget but I save an hour of my life if I can work right through lunch," Alessa confessed, returning her attention to the computer to refresh her tasks list as if to confirm she had indeed been recruited for the Mingo team. As Lou had said, there she found three tasks and two new roles assigned to her, one being as official translator for anything Korean. She bit her lip as she tried to hide her smile while Lou still sat there.

"Yes, but what are you saving your life for if you never use it?" Lou quipped. But when Alessa just looked at her confused, Lou gave a shrug of her shoulder. "Fine, be that way. I don't know why I like you," she pouted, standing up, "you are such a stick in the mud."

Alessa gave a self-deprecating, half grin and sigh. "Yes, I've been called that before."

"I don't doubt it. Alright, later, then," she called in parting.

With her gone, Alessa attempted to turn back to her work, anxious to finish the project at hand so she could reevaluate her priorities and perhaps move on to Mr. Ashbury's assignments. She struggled against the spinning nervous tingles in her stomach, her excitement and subsequent anger wrestling against one another. She didn't care for her response to the prospect of working with him. 

In the first weeks of her time there, she found she could avoid thinking about him if she propelled herself deeply enough into her work. Her endeavor was aided by the fact that they infrequently had need to speak to one another, and in those spaces of hours and days when they didn't interact, she hummed along, putting away her feelings of attraction, driven by the unconscious hunger to impress him. But then she would spy him from across a room, and when she realized she had paused to watch him, all her self-delusion that she could be indifferent to him would crumble.

And now, with an actual project that would repeatedly force her into his presence, apprehension over her uncontrollable, burgeoning attraction put her stomach in knots. And this was only the beginning. She had years to work with this man. Would her response to him ever even out? Would she ever see him as just another man she could ignore like all the rest? 

She rubbed her temples and then returned to her work, eventually becoming absorbed enough to make some head way on her to-do list. At six, she closed her work down, grateful to have a reason for detaching herself from the grating of her mind. As usual, she gathered her things and headed toward the elevators.

"Oh, Alessa, I'd like for you to meet someone," Denny said as they met on their way to leave. Alessa stopped, noticing the man next to him. "This is Hyun-Joong Park. He's CEO of Kyohan Technologies. Hyun-Joong, this is Alessa Allen, our newest associate and one of our brightest assets," Denny said, his eyes washing over her warmly.

Alessa was tempted to give a traditional Korean greeting, but Denny had introduced them in English, and it seemed smug to do it now. "Hello, nice to meet you." 

Hyun-Joong took her hand and shook it, smiling broadly. "And it's a pleasure to meet you," he returned in English and accent free.

Alessa smiled. Hyun-Joong was not quite as tall as Denny, but taller than most Koreans she knew. He was very good looking, and he had an air about him that said all American, making her wonder about his back ground beyond the business realm. "Of course I know you by reputation. You successfully merged three smaller technologies companies here and in Seoul to create Kyohan."

"Aw, well, I definitely had the drive, but Denny here was the real mastermind behind the mergers. I couldn't have done it without him," he bragged as he slapped a hand on Denny's shoulder and hung his arm there.

Alessa's eyes shifted to Denny who was smiling rather boastfully at her. "Ah, yes, I recall reading that when I did my research on you," she murmured, reluctant to brag on him. "You were fortunate you knew such an entrepreneurial friend, then," she remarked, not certain if she was digging at him or simply stating a fact.

Denny narrowed his eyes at her, a small smirk on his lips. "I like to think I make my own luck."

Hyun-Joong chuckled at them. "Well, as much as I enjoy chatting, I am starving, and Denny here has promised to take me for dinner. Why don't you join us?" he offered.

Alessa turned her gaze back to Denny who nodded. "Yeah, you can come if you want," interested if she would break her habit of distancing herself if a client was involved.

There was a moment of teetering before Alessa made a decision. "As lovely as that sounds, I really can't. I have a prior engagement and then I need to get back here to the office. I have several more hours of work ahead of me."

"Are you sure?" Hyun-Joong prodded, but then relented when he saw Alessa would not. "Okay, well it was very nice to meet you. I look forward to working with you, especially if you're as bright as Denny says."

"I would like that, too," Alessa replied as the three began making their way toward the elevator.

Alessa pushed the down arrow, and as they stood there waiting, Hyun-Joong continued their conversation. "So how long have you been with Wiles?" he asked casually.

"Just a few weeks now."

"Just graduate?"

"No, I graduated a few years ago, but have been working over at the Asian Museum."

"Aw," he intoned as if very interested. "Like Asian cultures?"

She nodded with a smile and then added, "Korean especially," smiling brightly at the implication.

He smiled in return. "Speak it?"

"As a matter of fact I do." 

"Where did you learn it?"

Denny noticed it appeared as though she were about to give an answer and then changed her mind quickly, offering instead, "College."

"And where did you graduate?"

"Berkeley. Boalt Hall."

"Oh yeah? So you're from around here?"

"Uh, yeah, in Walnut Creek," she answered, hoping he knew where that was.

"Oh, okay. Been out there a few times. Hiking's decent out around there."

"It can be," she agreed with a smile.

"Do you still live there?"

She gave a small shake of her head. "No, here in the city."

"Cool." They reached the ground floor and the door dinged open. "Well, it was nice meeting you," he said again, shaking her hand once more.

Alessa nodded and then her eyes slid to Denny, feeling the need to slip from his presence as quickly as possible. He was watching her intently, and the force of his eyes made endless eddies roll in her stomach. She nodded once in his direction and quickly split from the two, walking south toward Market. Denny stood there watching her quickly flee.

"Denny, your car's here," Hyun-Joong called.

Reluctantly, he tore his gaze from her and got in the waiting car. Over dinner, Hyun-Joong continued to ask questions about Alessa, discovering all he could about the pretty woman. He noted something in Denny's voice as he answered his questions, something of pride and admiration, as well as desire. But he chose not to breach the topic.

The next evening, Denny was ready to uncover her secret, having already positioned himself in the lobby, leaning against a pillar. Just after six, Alessa emerged from the elevator and strode across the marble floor and out the doors. He waited a second before following her, knowing it wasn't yet quite dark enough to go unseen if he chanced to get too close. As predicted, she had turned south toward Market again. Denny darted across the street to follow from the other side. At first he counted himself lucky that there were so many people about, filing out of the various buildings to head home for the evening, the crowded street providing ample cover. However, when they nearly reached Market and she turned right and out of his sight, all the people that had acted as cover now stymied his progress. Before he could reach the corner, the light had changed and he was stalled as endless traffic came down Montgomery and turned onto Market. When he at last had the light and dashed back across Montgomery, he had lost her.

The light was now too dim for him to easily see, and he couldn't find her amidst all the bobbing heads before him. His pace sped, until he was pushing past people in an attempt to catch up with her. He went two blocks before he stopped, realizing she was gone. Perhaps she had caught a bus, or had gone underground to get on the BART, or maybe had slipped into one of the dozens of buildings now looming over him. In any case, she had vanished.

Denny stood on the smooth, maroon brick of the sidewalk, his hands on his hips as he attempted to catch his breath. He scanned repeatedly, giving a last look for any signs of her, but with no luck. And then as he turned to head back to the office, he stopped. Across the street, he spotted her in a second-story window. When traffic was clear, he jogged across and then slowly walked to where he could spy her easily. She stood visible in the high, floor-to-ceiling, corner window of a gym. She was on a treadmill, looking down at her phone. He could just make out the white earphones dangling from her ears. He watched as she seemed happy with whatever she had done to her phone, tucking it onto her arm band, and then turning her attention to the machine she stood on. Before long her legs were moving, gradually picking up speed until she was jogging. Her dark hair swung in rhythm with her legs.

Denny stood on the street, staring up at the lit window, oblivious to pedestrians passing by him; to the sounds of the city; to the other gym-goers visible in the large window. He watched entranced by the figure now running in place, a peace washing over him, somewhere in the back of his mind recalling how she would come to their political science course after she had run and that in her file it reported she had been on the track team at Berkeley in undergrad. It all made sense now, his panic that she had been perhaps meeting someone now dissolving in the reality of those fast swinging legs.

Eventually, he turned his attention back to the street and made his way back to the office. One mystery solved, and so many more to come.



Trivial Pursuits Ch. 03



Dear Readers,

Thank you for your votes and feedback. I'm happy some of you are enjoying it. Sorry if the pace feels slow, but there's so much for Denny to do in order to convince Alessa to give him a chance. Poor girl has issues, but in the meantime, I hope the wait is an enjoyable torture! And of course, another big thanks to alreadytaken for her stellar editing skills and legal insight.

Enjoy,

Titania

*******

CHAPTER THREE





Trivial Pursuits Ch. 03



Denny smiled softly, leaning ever-so-slightly forward, "For the record, I am. Thank you for sharing."

The sincerity and warmth in his voice felt like a stroking hand down her back and made her heart flutter to the point where she was actually concerned if she was having a heart attack, a physical, uncontrollable response. She knew her face was flushed and looked back at the screen, suddenly intent on finishing so she could escape.

Denny watched her studiously, noting the pinkening of her cheeks and smiling to himself over her response. He decided to not make her any more uncomfortable, knowing she would likely fight back or shut down. He was content for the moment to know that she was not immune to him and responded in spite of herself.

The following day was Friday, and Alessa felt a constant tightness in her stomach, fear that she would walk into Denny at any moment. And when nine-thirty that evening came and she had only seen him in passing, she told herself she was relieved, though couldn't account for the surfacing disappointment. On Saturday she only worked 'til one, amazingly finding herself caught up on all tasks assigned to her. She knew the freedom wouldn't last, but the accomplishment sent her into a cheery, sorbet sort of mood. 

It was her sister's birthday, and her family was meeting at her father's house for the party. Alessa had to circle his block twice before finding a tight, but free space on the curb. Granted, there was plenty of space in his double-wide drive way, but she never parked there.

She got out, retrieving the heavy box beautifully wrapped in silver and pink wrapping and ribbons. She sat it atop her small seventy-eight Fiat and then reached in for the large pink cake she had spent four hours baking and decorating. Her head had the tinge of a sleep-deprived headache, but the beautiful cake had been worth it. She sat it on the gift, balancing it delicately and then walked half a block to her father's house and made it up the steep yard, nearly slipping in the grass.

She was at the back door, her arms full and unable to hold the heavy items with only one arm to open the door. She could see through the window in the door as her father was on the phone and her step mother, Shelly, was brushing back the hair from her sister's shoulder. She tried bumping the door to gain their attention, but when that failed to work, she tried kicking it. Her step mother looked up.

"Hello!" Alessa called out, the pain from holding the heavy objects becoming too much to bear. "Can someone open the door?" she called louder when Shelly didn't make a move.

Her sister turned and smiled, hopping to the door. She flung it open. "Alessa! You came!"

"Of course, Octo, wouldn't have missed it if you paid me to stay away," she returned with a large smile as she made a quick dash for the kitchen counter to set her packages down on.

"My cake is so pretty!" 

"It's not from Cakemakers," Shelly stated with a frown. 

Stretching out the cramps in her arms, Alessa scrambled for a response, "Ah, no. I wanted to bake it myself."

"But Cakemakers is her favorite. If I'd known you weren't going to get the cake from there, I would have done the job myself."

"Oh, nonsense," Alexander, her father, interjected as he slid his phone into his pocket, coming over to look at the beautiful cake. "I think it looks perfect," he added, placing a hand on Alessa's shoulder and pulling her near him. He placed a kiss at her temple. "Hi honey. Happy to see you. How's the job?"

Alessa just smiled and nodded, indicating all was well.

"I think my cake looks wonderful!" Cadence agreed with a giant smile. "It'll be my new favorite!" she promised, turning and squeezing Alessa tightly around the middle.

"Thanks, Octo," Alessa smiled softly, putting her arms around her, too.

Shelly sighed. "Well, as long as Cadence is happy with it, I suppose it's okay."

"Alessa, come look at the new clothes I got!" Cadence shouted, taking her older sister by the hand.

"You've already opened your presents?" Alessa asked.

"No, silly, they're just clothes mom bought me yesterday."

"Oh," Alessa replied, giving a nod of the head indicating, of course, she should have known that. The fourteen-year-old girl, with long, gangly, clingy limbs that had earned her the name 'Octopus'-Octo for short-from her adoring older sister, tried on each new outfit while Alessa sat on her bed and indulged the birthday girl. 

The two were discussing Octo's classes at school when the doorbell rang. "Gram is here!" the flighty, younger sister said and tugged on the last shirt she had left to model. She ran out the room and down the stairs, leaving Alessa to look around her sister's pink and purple room, wishing she could stay there for the rest of the day. But knowing that wasn't really an option, she took a deep breath to calm the wash of acid pouring through her stomach before standing up to trail slowly behind Cadence.

She found the family standing together in the dining room where Shelly's mother was holding Cadence at arm's length and discussing her pretty new top. It was some minutes before anyone noticed that Alessa had arrived.

The dowager-looking woman with the sweeping, short, gray hair looked up, her smile fading to cool civility. "Oh, hello Alessa. I didn't think you were going to be able to make it."

Alessa had no reply to that so merely smiled a tight-lip grimace.

"Your job going well? Been able to keep up?"

Alex's phone rang, and he turned from the group and walked into the entry to speak.

Alessa breathed in and forced a smile, appreciative of something positive to talk about. "Yes. I've enjoyed it immensely. It's been a great challenge."

The older woman's face had a blasé, unimpressed expression. "Well, one can't expect to be good at everything. I just hope that if you work hard enough you won't be too great a disappointment," she offered, choosing to interpret Alessa's words to mean she was struggling with her work.

Alessa knew it was useless to try to explain. The woman had, from the very first day she met her, chosen to believe the worst about her, and nothing Alessa said or did ever convinced her otherwise. "Here, Shelly," the grandmother said, "take these gifts and I'll put this food in the kitchen." She picked up the large sack marked La Ciccia, and instructed Alessa to come help. Holding her tongue, for what was there really to say, Alessa followed dutifully behind. 

The grandmother set the large sack of Italian take out on the counter. "Where did this come from?" she questioned, looking down at the light-pink cake as though it had flown in from Mars.

"Alessa made my cake," Cadence answered as she trailed her sister, smiling and coming to look down at it again. "Isn't it pretty?"

"I thought we were getting a cake from Cakemakers," the old woman asked, now turning her frown to Alessa.

Alessa attempted to answer, to open her mouth and speak, but was cut off from Shelly as she came in the kitchen. "Alessa took it upon herself to make the cake. I just hope it turned out well enough to be edible."

Again Alessa made to speak, but really had no defense. "I bet it'll be the best cake I've ever had," Cadence assured, smiling at Alessa, completely oblivious to thinly-veiled hostility coming from her mother and grandmother. Alessa's sister's faith in her made her smile, and so she chose to focus her attention on her instead.

"At any rate, we need to get this food plated so we can eat it before it gets too cold," Shelly said, pulling the plates from the cupboard. "Alessa, will you set the table while we get the food ready? It shouldn't be too hard for you; everything I want is laid out on the table already. You just have to put it where it goes. I've already ironed the table cloth; it's draped over the back of the chair in the sitting room." With the final instruction, she turned back to her mother who was already removing cartons of Cadence's favorite Italian eatery. 

Alessa, grateful to be able to leave, quietly went about to do as asked. The meal was a happy enough event, everyone talking admiringly of Cadence who was a blonde, pretty angel and the obvious apple of her family's eyes. Though Alessa said very little, she watched interactions, happy for a moment that she was generally forgotten about.

After dinner was presents. And though Cadence had just received a new wardrobe, her parents still bought her the latest smartphone, a new Louis Vuitton purse, various accessories for her new phone, and a gift certificate to several of Cadence's favorite stores. Her grandmother bought her a pair of leather riding boots, though Cadence had never ridden in her life. Lastly, she opened her sister's gift.

"It's so heavy! I wonder what it could be," she asked with a huge smile. She tore off the pretty wrapping and ripped open the box. "Books," she said with a smile.

"They're all the books I had to read my freshman year, and I imagine you'll be required to read them, too," Alessa explained, happy to share her love of reading with her sister. Some of those books had turned out to be gems, ones she would always carry with her, and so it was a sentimental sacrifice to pass them along.

"Used books? And not even used you bought, but already owned? Good grief, do they not pay you at that fancy law job you can't even afford to buy your sister a gift?" the grandmother asked incredulously.

"I'm sure they pay her plenty-" her father attempted to defend, but was cut off.

"So then she's just stingy," the grandmother concluded.

Neither Alessa nor her father had a quick enough reply for Cadence piped in. "Alessa is not stingy. She would give me her last dollar if she needed to. And in fact, I think she did that, on more than one occasion. Alessa loves reading and she knows I love reading, too," she supplied, turning back to her sister. "Thank you, I shall treasure them," a determined expression accompanying her promise. 

Alessa was struggling to control her anger, but was able to manage to smile gratefully back at her sister, whose infinite grace always seemed to overcome her family's words. "I'm glad you like them. And I'd love to discuss them with you when you're studying them."

Cadence smiled back. "Thanks."

For a moment the room was tense until Shelly cut in with, "Well, I guess it's time for cake. We might as well get it out of the way." Together the family and Alessa returned to the dining room and sat around the table while Shelly got out the cake plates and forks and then went back into the kitchen for the large, gorgeous dessert. She placed the fourteen candles around the top and lit them before carrying the cake in. They started singing happy birthday, Cadence beaming at the dreamy cake coming her way. Alessa was smiling at her, focusing on her joy, but when she looked back to her step mother approaching, her expression turned to one of horror as Shelly seemingly tripped and launched herself forward, the heavy cake propelled off the short cake stand, crashing against the edge of the table and landing with a splat onto the floor. 

Silence followed the abrupt chaos for a solid five seconds.

"Oh, that is a shame," the grandmother consoled. She turned to look at Alessa. "You must have worked so hard on that."

Alessa remained silent with wide eyes and an open mouth. And then she turned to look at her sister.

"Oh, Alessa, I am so sorry," Shelly said as she scrambled down onto the floor to scrape the crumbled disaster back onto the cake stand. "I've completely ruined your cake!" she said with disgust.

Alessa watched Cadence's eyes begin to brim with tears.

"No," she disagreed, a hard edge of anger laying under the surface of her voice, "not my cake. Cadence's." She clenched her jaw as she turned her irritated gaze to the grandmother, and then to Shelly whose eyes popped above the surface of the table.

"Oh, Cadence, sweetie, I'm sorry. I know you were looking forward to eating it. But don't worry, baby, I'll take you first thing tomorrow to Cakmakers and we'll get you a brand new one," she promised indulgingly.

"But I don't want a new one. I want the one Alessa made," she wailed, her tears now flowing down her smooth cheeks.

"But sweetheart, it's been ruined. Don't worry, we'll get you a better one at Cakemakers."

Through her tears, Cadence argued, "But is it even open on Sunday?"

"Oh, you're right. It'll probably be closed. Alex, sweetheart, why don't you take Alessa to Cakemakers and let her get Cadence a new cake since we can't eat the one she baked," Shelly suggested as she stood, lifting the evidence of the ruined dessert.

"That's okay, I'll buy the new since Alessa's already gone to the trouble of baking one," Alex argued.

"But she wanted to be responsible for Cadence's cake. The least we can do is let her," Shelly returned, walking back into the kitchen.

"Right, well, okay, Alessa let's go," Alex relented, standing to leave.

"Wanna come along?" Alessa asked, turning to her sister, rubbing a hand on her back. "I'll let you pick out your cake," she offered soothingly. 

Cadence's tears were coming to an end, and, lifting her head, she wiped her reddened face. "Really?"

"Sure, why not. It's your birthday after all."

"Okay," the teen said at last, her face finally brightening.

"Alessa, do you need to move your car?" her father asked, indicating it might be blocking him in the drive.

Alessa shook her head, "No, I parked on the street."

"You were able to find a spot?" he asked.

"Sure."

"Why don't you just park in the drive like everyone else?" he questioned.

"You know her," Shelly chimed in, still wiping up the last of the pink icing from the dark-stained, wood floors, "she always parks on the street."

"Why?" he asked, clearly not having noticed her tendency.

Before Alessa could answer, Cadence piped in, "So she can escape whenever she wants!" she giggled.

Alessa narrowed her eyes, wrapping her arm around neck her sister's neck and pulling her along out the house.

For the remainder of the day, Alessa was able to keep her calm, spoiling her sister with affection. When she went to leave, Octo walked her out to her car.

"Why do you still have this car?" she asked, her disapproval at the old car evident. 

"I'm saving my money. This car still works. Plus I don't even drive that often. Why get rid of it?"

Cadence just shrugged. "Thanks again for books," she said as she threw her arms around her, hugging her one last time before she left.

"Welcome," Alessa answered, hugging her back. "Sorry about your cake," Alessa offered quietly, still hugging her sister.

"Shouldn't I be saying that to you?" Cadence asked, before kissing her quickly on the cheek. "Have me over soon," she begged once she let go.

"Sure, maybe next Saturday you can spend the night," Alessa answered vaguely.

"I miss you," Cadence whispered sadly. "Ever since you started work, you've disappeared again, just like when you were in school." She still had her arms around Alessa's neck. Alessa frowned at her confession. "Promise I can come over?" Cadence pressed.

"No. But we'll talk about it with our parents," she assured. 

"Okay," Cadence relented. "Love you. Call me later."

"Sure thing," Alessa promised, kissing the top of her sister's head before extracting herself from her arms. But Cadence clung on. Alessa laughed. "You are such an octopuss!"

Eventually she was in her little car and pulled from the curb, watching her sister wave in the rear-view mirror. She kept the tears inside for almost an entire block.



Trivial Pursuits Ch. 04



Dear Readers,

As always, any feedback, good, bad or ugly, is welcome. Again, this chapter is more relationship development and nothing too erotic, but it is primarily Denny and Alessa. Hope you enjoy it. And thanks again to Alreadytaken for taking the time to edit for me :)as well as priceless advice.

Enjoy!

Titania

*******

CHAPTER FOUR





Trivial Pursuits Ch. 04



"You drew me?" she continued to ask with a thoughtful frown, her finger tracing the etched lines defining her nose, her mouth. "You're very good," she offered with admiration and surprise in her voice as she studied the lines of her likeness. She looked back up at him, a smile of pleasure on her face.

He realized she wasn't troubled that he had been sketching her, but rather, was impressed with his ability. "Thanks," he said with a soft smile.

"Where did you learn to draw?" she questioned as she began eating her food again.

"I've always enjoyed drawing. Have drawn as long as I can remember. When I was little, of course I drew cars and robots. In high school I became very interested in buildings, architecture. Actually, I lightly considered it as a career. Took a few art classes in college."

Alessa's expression was intrigued, and then took a look around his office. She saw all the great pen and ink renderings that tastefully decorated his office walls, even an art piece resembling a skyscraper made of wire sat on the small coffee table in front of his sofa. She could clearly see his décor as a holdover from his first aspirations.

"Then why law? Why not architecture? Knew you couldn't make it?" she questioned with one of her cheeky grins, repeating his own bombastic line of questioning from her interview back at him.

Denny gave a self-deprecating smile and accepting shrug. "No, things just change."

"What sort of things? You clearly still like it," she argued, indicating with a nod around his office to all the architecture elements.

He sighed. "Well, my father convinced me to give law a try. And I found I liked it well enough."

"Really? Is he a lawyer?" she asked before taking the last bite of her soup.

"No. He's a rancher. But he always wanted to be one, I think. He's interested in politics."

"Then why's he a rancher?"

Denny chuckled. "I think it's the same reason I'm a lawyer. My grandfather was a rancher. Actually, it's my mom's father. When my parents married, he gave them the family ranch, sort of forced my father into it."

"I can't imagine anyone just falling into ranching. It seems like a lifestyle you're raised in to, and less of something you choose, like mechanic," Alessa mused with a frown.

"Well, my dad's from Texas. He came from farming so it wasn't alien to him, but I think he had wanted to do something else with his life. Met my mom while working in Dallas. When they got married and my grandfather gave them the ranch, I think she sort of influenced him to come here. And you're right; it's a way of life and it leaves very little for anything else, like pursuing a law degree."

Alessa nodded in understanding. "And now you're the lawyer your father always wanted to be."

Denny nodded.

"You resent it?"

"No, of course not. Well, not really. I enjoy my work. I'm good at it. I'm of the belief that everyone should go to law school, even if not to be a lawyer."

Alessa was considering his words when he asked, "How about you?"

"Isn't that a question you should have asked me at my interview?" she said without looking up from her bulgolgi.

Denny's face broke into a sheepish grin. He noted her voice held little bitterness, and so he teased back, "I suppose I was distracted by other things."

"Hm, like what?" she asked, herself absorbed by her yummy food.

"You," he answered simply.

That drew her attention and she lifted her head with a mild look of shock before her eyes narrowed. "As I recall, you were distracted with being a jerk," she commented drily and looked back down at her food.

Denny replied with a smile of his own before rebuffing, "And I would argue that if I acted like a jerk, and I'm not admitting that I was, it was only because I was distracted by you." She didn't look up, but he could see her beginning to blush. Her head sank a little lower on her shoulders.

"You shouldn't be so easily distracted by unimportant things," she mumbled, still not looking at him. "And besides, you already did admit it when you apologized," she returned, unable to let him have the last word.

But Denny was not to be out done, and after storing her first statement away for future pondering, replied. "I would point out that if you will remember more accurately, I only apologized if you took offense to any of my words. I didn't expressly label my behavior in such terms as 'jerkish.' But, I would only make that last point if I were interested in the argument," he said, squelching any further discussion on it. "But I'm not. I am more interested in why you still haven't answered my question," he reminded her. 

"Well, it was just one of those things, you know? It's a career and I had to pick one," she supplied.

"Then how about your parents? You said they lived in Walnut Creek?"

Alessa sighed. "Yeah. My mom does."

"Not your father?"

"Parents are divorced," she reported flatly.

"I'm sorry," he offered, though he knew it probably sounded obligatory. "So where does your father live then?"

"Here in the city." He watched her read what was in front of her, noting the matter-of-fact manner she gave her answers.

"So any brothers or sisters."

Alessa gave a gentle head roll before taking a deep breath. "Yeah. A sister."

"Oh, really? Younger or older?"

She gave a hint of a smile. "Younger."

"And where does she live?"

"With my dad. She's my half-sister."

"And how much younger?"

"She just turned fourteen. She's quite something," she admitted, finally breaking into a genuine smile.

"Something, huh? How?"

"Well, she's talented in just about everything. She's very intelligent, beautiful, sweet." She was still smiling as she looked off into the distance, dreaming of her sister.

"Are you sure you aren't talking about yourself?"

Her eyes flew to his for a split second before she lowered her gaze, her cheeks flaming red.

"So she lives near you. That must be nice you can see her so often."

His behavior as though nothing untoward had been said pulled her from her embarrassment. "Yeah, I guess."

"You guess?"

"Well, it's not actually that easy. I didn't get to see her a lot growing up because I lived in Walnut Creek with my mom. And by the time she was a kid, I was in college hell-bent on doing well school. And now I work here. It's hard splitting the very little free time I have between her and my mom."

"Your mom remarried?"

"Bill. He owns a small engine repair shop."

Again he noted the flat affect of her voice.

"Of course I want to hang out with Cadence all I can, but my mom needs me," she supplied, a little sadly.

"And why is that?"

She gave a little shake of her head and frowned. "She doesn't do well."

"And she doesn't have any other children?"

"No. Just me. She couldn't really have kids after me. In fact, I think she was lucky to have me," Alessa answered thoughtfully.

"Anyone would be lucky to have you," he stated with all the sincerity of a sunrise.

Alessa's eyes lifted to his, their intensity making her chest tighten. Without another word, she turned her attention to their work. She spoke to him as he ate, and together they devised a very rough idea of a marketing strategy to expand in Korea and Japan.

The following week, rain poured down on the Bay Area, forcing Alessa to stick to the treadmill and carry an umbrella everywhere. On Tuesday morning, Clare stopped by Alessa's desk to inform her Denny wished to speak with her. She nodded and shut down her work with clenched lips.

She had tried to convince herself that he was only a work colleague, that nothing out of the ordinary was happening between them, in her. And yet, as she knocked on his door and watched him sitting there, her eyes casting about to look over the art on his walls, something more intimate than colleagues flared in her. She knew she was being fanciful, but then he spoke.

"Alessa, come in. I have a deposition this afternoon, and I thought it would be good if you joined me. It's for an architecture firm that deals with restoration projects. They're suing the Sloan and May Historical Preservation Trust that finances restoration of historical properties here in the Bay Area. Philip-that's the CEO of the architect firm and my friend-thinks the trustee, Mr. Arnold Sloan, has emptied it, and that's why they've refused to pay this year. Today I'm building a case to petition for access to the bank accounts. The client is one of our smaller ones, and so I haven't burdened the firm with assigning too many underlings to it. But I thought perhaps it would be good experience for you. Interested?"

It was a great chance for something new, and to get out of the office. She nodded. "Yes, that sounds good. What time?"

Denny looked at his watch. How many people still wore a watch, she wondered. "We'll need to leave by one-fifteen at the latest. And it will probably take all afternoon."

Again she nodded, already arranging in her head what she needed to prioritize and organize so she could leave her work guilt-free. "Yes, I think I can manage that," she said, the prospect of getting out of the office and yet working at the same time suddenly making her excited. She smiled. 

"Good," he nodded once, but then caught her with his gaze, and she suddenly wondered if it was a good idea to go anywhere with him.

Alessa returned to her desk and worked until Denny sent her an IM at one, asking if she was ready to go, to which she replied she would meet him at the elevators in five. She wasn't certain what she needed to take with her, especially as she had done none of the work for the case, but decided her laptop was always handy, her legal-pad a no brainer, and various supplies, such as pens and post-it notes, but didn't know beyond that. Slipping her phone into her rain jacket, she made her way to the door. 

On her way, she bumped into Josh Caplin who immediately asked her where she was bound. "A deposition."

"Hm, got cases of your own already?"

"Not quite. I'm being allowed to sit in. Maybe I'll help out if Mr. Ashbury needs me."

He smiled at her. "Good. Hey, I was wondering, when you get back this evening if you wanted to go out for food instead of ordering take out? You know, break the monotony of our late nighters." He was smiling, and though the offer seemed harmless enough, she could tell by his posturing this was his first step down the path to an official date. 

Alessa had had to decline numerous offers over the years, and had learned to tailor each answer to the context of her preexisting relationship to the guy. Random men in bars or at parties were a lot easier to reject, with a simple 'no' or short sentence that she was 'unavailable,' but those with whom she had some sort of working or academic relationship required delicacy if she was to avoid a hostile turn in their treatment of her. They were likely in a position to know if her refusal was based on a lie and would need a stern enough word to end any further pursuits, but not so brutal or unkind as to offend them. The key was to leave them with their manhood intact, to make the rejection not about her attraction to them or their masculinity, but some external situation she couldn't control. 

"No, thank you. I brought my dinner, as usual. I try to avoid eating out as much as possible," she replied, turning to look at the numbers clicking up above the elevator, wishing it would go a little faster, wishing Denny would show up and scare him off. As she was puzzling over her desire for Denny to save her, Caplin continued on.

"Don't you ever break that rule?" he pushed with a grin meant to be charming.

"Not often, and certainly not to simply break monotony. Plus, I really have a ton of work, especially now that I have to leave the office this afternoon. I'd better stay and push through."

"Okay, but you have to let me take you out this weekend, help you relax. You need a life outside the office, you know," he continued to insist, as he turned to leave.

Alessa was just about to speak when Denny rounded the corner, his expression terse. He came to stand next to Alessa and gave Caplin a look that sent the associate running. Neither said anything as they waited for the elevator to arrive. Though he didn't look at her and said nothing, she could feel his near-angry displeasure, and didn't understand her need to explain that she had no intention of dating Josh. In the end, she satisfied herself with the argument that nothing unprofessional had been said by either she or Josh, that she wasn't interested in Denny so she didn't need to salvage his feelings for her, and it was none of his business at any rate.

The tension didn't fade as the afternoon proceeded, but seemed to grow in hostility as she bumped him with her umbrella when they got out of his car, and he introduced her as "just an associate." He didn't look at her once during the entire proceedings, making her feel small and inconsequential, and the he snubbed her offer of a pen when he couldn't find his own.

It was rush hour when the deposition was completed, and the two still hadn't spoken, as Alessa continued to repeat to herself that she had done nothing wrong and wouldn't be the first to break the silence, no matter how childish it made her. The rain had finally let up, but traffic was heavy as they stood on the sidewalk waiting for Denny's driver, the sound of a thousand car tires rolling over the wet pavement filling their angry silence. 

Alessa was stewing, her irritation growing with each minute at what she perceived was his immature reaction to another man mildly hitting on her. She felt him look at her, and, determined to give him the full force of her ire, she turned to glower at him. She only registered his look of fear and surprise the moment before he grabbed her and spun them around so he placed his body between her and the street. It all happened so fast, but as the town-cross bus roared past, Alessa was protected in his arms from the giant, plunging wave that rose higher than Denny's head, before crashing down upon him to completely drench his entire back.

For a second, the two only stood wrapped in each other's arms, stunned by the assault, their eyes wide and mouths agape, and then Denny's face broke into a huge grin and Alessa couldn't contain the laughter.

"Oh, Denny," she gasped between peals, reaching up to wipe the water from his brow and eyes. "You look like a drowned rat!" As she touched him with firm, slow swipes, his grasp around her waist tightened, pulling her closer into him. And then Alessa felt herself instantly heat as she was held in his intense eyes, his smile shifting into something infinitely warmer. For just a moment, she allowed the natural progression of things, allowed him to pull her into complete contact with his body, allowed her palms to drift to his firm chest, allowed him to lean down to her, his lips drawing nearer.

"Sir! I am so sorry!" his driver called, rushing up from the car he just parked. "You're drenched!" he exclaimed, failing to notice the almost-kiss he just interrupted.

Denny watched Alessa quickly regain her wits, the fleeting moment now gone. He hated the trepidation he saw in her face, her discomfort, not just mild embarrassment at being caught nearly kissing the boss, but fear of the intimacy itself, the disquiet of a would-be-kiss. She quickly pulled herself from his arms, her hands quickly brushing down herself as though she wished to brush off the feeling of his body against hers.

"Yeah, that's what I get for being chivalrous," Denny replied drolly, his eyes finally leaving Alessa to look at his own soiled state.

"Should I take you home now?" the driver asked him.

"Uh, that's okay," Alessa allowed. "I can catch a bus back to the office," she offered, eager to simply get away from him.

"No. I'm not made of sugar; I'll survive a little water. Plus, it isn't out of the way to drop you off on my way home," Denny maintained, not allowing her to get away from him so quickly. He could tell she was about to argue so he took a step toward her, grasping her gently at the elbow. "Don't argue. I insist. Now, come on," he guided her back to the car, both sliding in the door the driver had opened.

Again, the ride back to the office was quiet, but the tension between the two backseat passengers was different. Alessa sat as far against her door as she could, her body leaning towards it with her eyes focused intently out. Denny looked over at her, studying her, his eyes drifting down her arm to where her right hand rested on the seat next to her. Next to him. The impulse to place his hand over her slender one was strong, making him sigh as he looked out his own window.

Alessa kept repeating to herself what an idiot she was, and Denny kept replaying the fear in her eyes as she backed away from him. What he saw convinced him it wouldn't be a simple case of wooing Alessa, he needed to know more, to outsmart her, to play her into his hands.

"Thank you," she had whispered just before the driver opened her door and she slipped out without looking at him once.

Denny watched as she scurried up the few steps to the entrance of the building, a disappointment filling his voice as he instructed the driver to take him home. On the way, he pulled out his phone and called Max. If anyone could take his mind off Alessa, she could.



Trivial Pursuits Ch. 05



Dear Readers,

Thanks for coming back, and thank you for all your votes and comments. As always, keep them coming. I love to hear what you have to say. A little warning, this is sort of the last foundational chapter before Denny really starts to make a move, so for all of you out there jonesing for a little good ol' smut, you'll have to wait at least another chapter before it really heats up. Otherwise, if you just want to follow the development of their relationship, stick around, we learn a little more about Alessa.

Once again, thank you to Alreadytaken for her excellent editing skills and law advice.

Enjoy!

Titania

******

CHAPTER FIVE





Trivial Pursuits Ch. 05



As they were gathering their things to leave the office, Denny was swinging on his jacket when Alessa commented on his habit of wearing suspenders. "What's with the suspenders?"

"What? You don't like them?" he asked chuckling, looking down at himself, assessing them.

"They're just...unusual, you know, for someone your age and with your...physique," she finished quietly.

Denny continued smiling, but said nothing about her inadvertent compliment to his body. "What can I say? They look sharp. I'm not really too flashy in the way of fashion, but I think it' good to have something signature about me."

Alessa smiled unconvinced. "Looks are important to you?"

"Aesthetics are important," he corrected, "whether clothing, cars, buildings," he indicated nodding to the art on his walls. "We all like something pretty to look at. Nothing wrong with that," he stated ushering her out of his office and toward her desk so she could grab her things.

"But when beauty is all a person thinks about..." she semi-argued, grabbing her bag.

"Did you know you can die from drinking too much water?" he commented obtusely.

She frowned, not seeing the connection. "Yes."

"But you need water. You would die without it, so it would be safe to call it a good thing. So like water, beauty, or rather the focus on it, is the important factor, not beauty itself. So, a little appreciation is hardly a vice."

"Point taken," she conceded, punching the down button. When they stepped on the elevator in silence, Alessa suddenly became very aware of how close he was, his cologne at the forefront of all her senses. She closed her eyes as the elevator started down.

"You okay?" Denny asked, his warm voice slipping around and inside her.

She nodded and opened her eyes, only to find him exceptionally close, looking down at her. Denny's eyes dropped to her mouth when her lips parted and her breathing increased. His gaze was heated and undisguised. She felt scorched.

Alessa stood more erect and looked forward. She cleared her throat and tugged her raincoat more securely around her.

"Alessa, maybe we should discuss this," he suggested, his rough voice adding to her frustrating attraction.

"Discuss what?" she asked, hoping ignorance would discourage him.

"We almost kissed the other day," he reminded her. "I want to kiss you now," his voice dropped gently.

The elevator stopped. She shook her head dismissively. "You're imaging things. Besides, it would be a mistake," and then quickly stepped off as soon as she could squeeze through the slow-opening doors.

Staying on the elevator to go down to underground parking, Denny watched her flee through the lobby, uncertain about his next move, regretting not simply grabbing her and kissing her as he had wanted. Damn her refusal.

The following days kept both busy as they went about their other various tasks. Alessa was thankful she had successfully avoided him, but on Thursday, she had news she knew he needed to know.

"The lot's empty," she informed him, standing before his desk. Clare hadn't been at her post, so Alessa simply knocked on the door, hoping what had been there would have been settled and forgotten. Of course, the moment he looked up and saw her, Alessa could feel the residual tension and knew nothing would be forgotten so easily. But, stiffening her spine, she walked to him to share with him what she had discovered.

"I was looking over some of those properties last night, and I realized that one was quite close to where I live, so I stopped by this morning on my way in. Denny, the lot is vacant. Whatever was there previously has been completely removed. There's no historic building there at all. The only thing on it was a real estate sign."

"So it's for sale," he mused. "Do you know what was supposed to be there?"

"According to the file, a house. Renovations to return it to a one family home. Specs on it valued the home around two-and-a-half million."

"Price of the lot on the sign?"

She slowly smiled and shook her head. "No, but the number of the agent was. So I just called her. She wouldn't give me the name of the seller, but said the lot's asking price was one-point-five million."

Denny whistled. "That's a little pricy for just the land. In a good location?"

"It's not bad. Residential. So, what do we do now?"

Denny was silent a moment as he stared at his desk. "Well, I'm still waiting to hear back on the ownership of those three companies. I'm kind of under the gun right now for this other case, but what if tomorrow we clear our schedules and go do a little investigating?"

She raised an eyebrow at him and cocked her head. "Doesn't the firm hire investigators for that sort of footwork?"

He gave a half smile. "Not afraid of a little hard work, are you? Besides, sometimes it's just nice to have an excuse to get out of the office," he confessed.

Her expression was contained for a moment, but a twinkling in her eyes gave her away before her answer did. Alessa smiled. "I did always want to be Perry Mason," she relented.

"MacGyver," Denny admitted with a shrug.

Alessa laughed at that and then the amusement faded, the unresolved emotions of their almost kiss surfacing again. Denny sat waiting for her to speak, those intense eyes making her stomach burn, but Alessa was unwilling to face it. "Okay. Well, then why don't we get a lot cleared in the morning, and we can go after lunch tomorrow."

Denny nodded in agreement. 

"Alright, then. Sounds good," she nodded also, and after standing before him for a few awkward seconds turned and left. 

****

"And do you know what the strangest thing was that should have been a big, red flag?"

Alessa shook her head and took another bite of her salad. Lou was sitting at her desk munching her salsa-flavored chips and sharing stories of her past boyfriends. "He said he wanted to go camping," she said incredulously.

"Why should that have been a warning?" Alessa asked.

"I told you. He was into the whole Goth scene. He wore more make-up than me, wore so much metal he could set off a metal-detector a mile away, and he was frightened of spiders. Anyway, his camping was just a cover story. He was boffing some trashy girl in a punk band."

"Spiders?" Alessa chuckled. "I thought you said he was a Goth."

"Yeah, well, he might have said he liked the whole dark side, but in reality he was a wimp. Screamed like a six-year-old girl," she laughed. 

"What did you see in him to start with?" Alessa asked, stabbing the last of her veggies with her fork.

"You know, there was just something about him. Of course, when I found out what he was doing, I realized he was just a creepy, cruddy boy. Nothing special."

"I'm sorry," Alessa offered.

"Don't be. I am definitely better off without him."

"Definitely," Alessa agreed with a nod.

Lou crumpled up her chip bag and took a drink of her soda. "So, what are you wearing to the auction?"

"The what?"

"You know, the fundraiser? One of our more prestigious clients is Omniliance."

"The charity?"

"Right. Every year, Wiles, Mayer, and Schecter holds a fundraiser for them, partly to cover our expenses in representing them, but primarily as a public relations event, for both the firm and them. We invite a gaggle of our best clients and most of our staff is highly encouraged to attend. The fundraiser is an auction of the best things the rich can buy. And at the end of it, several of the firm's elite are asked to participate."

"How do you mean 'participate'?"

"It's a date auction. Our staff, usually I think they choose about ten, five men, five women, go up on stage one at a time, the attendees bid on them, and whoever wins gets a date that evening with the staff person."

"That's a little barbarous and tacky, isn't it?" Alessa said, her face a picture of mild disgust.

"Not at all. You are such a prude," Lou admonished. "It's just fun. It's not as if it is illegal, no dirty or scandalous expectations. It's just a way of raising money and finding avenues for everyone to network, basically. Nothing has ever happened," Lou informed her. "So, I therefore assume you haven't picked out a dress." 

Alessa shook her head. "When is it?"

"Not for another three weeks. But you'd better get on it. Especially if you're going to have your hair done." Then Lou's face brightened and her excitement grew exponentially. "Oh! Please let me do your hair! You have such gorgeous hair! Oh, and I could do your make-up!" she squealed and wiggled excitedly in her chair as she clapped quickly. "Yes, yes, please say you'll let me. It will be such fun!"

Alessa was momentarily stunned, but she couldn't think of a reason why Lou shouldn't and so gave an acquiescing shrug, which produced yet another high-pitched squeal.

There was talk of Lou videoing the session and putting it up on her blog. Alessa was slightly concerned, and said she would think about it.

"Who are you going to take?"

"Take?" Alessa asked confused.

"You know, as in a date. For the party."

"Oh," Alessa was stuck on an answer. "No one, probably. Go stag."

"What?" Lou asked aghast, as though such an idea were impossible. Then her expression turned to one of mischief. "Why not ask Denny?" she suggested with innuendo.

"What?" Alessa asked in a hush voice of surprise. "Why would I do that?" she whispered and looked around quickly.

"Because you have a thing for him," Lou answered, whispering, too.

Alessa was stunned, words failing her. "That's ridiculous! I most certainly do not. And I don't date. Especially colleagues. I think he's a good lawyer, and sure he's attractive and smart with incredibly intense eyes..." she realized she was rambling away all the reasons she had been fighting against. "I don't like him. And that's that," she ended firmly.

"Me thinks the lady doth protest too much," Lou quipped. "If you don't like him, then why are you blushing? Admit it! You think Denton-sexy-pants-Ashbury is dreamy."

"Oh, good grief," Alessa groaned, slouching back in her chair and lifting her eyes to the ceiling in great exasperation.

"And what secret are you two sharing?" Denny asked, stopping in front of Alessa's desk.

She gave a surprised yip. Lou was barely containing her laughter, but she refused to answer Denny. He watched as Alessa's already pink cheeks turned positively red. She wouldn't even make eye contact with him. He could only smile at her strange behavior. "Well, I'm sorry to interrupt whatever it is, but Alessa, I have a video conference with the Mingo team in Seoul. I may need a translator. Would you mind sitting in with me? It's set for four this afternoon."

Alessa's mouth was a tight line and she still wasn't looking up at him, but she managed to vigorously nod her head, hoping the sooner she agreed, the sooner he would leave. He smiled, still baffled by her embarrassed behavior, and thanked her and left.

"I could slug you," she glowered at Lou who finally let out a loud laugh. She sat giggling hysterically in her chair, leaning back and holding her stomach.

"I wouldn't have thought it possible, but you got even redder!"

"This isn't funny!" Alessa hissed, whispering again. "Keep your voice down. We're not in sixth grade."

When Lou's laughter finally tapered off, she answered. "Maybe not. But males and females never change, no matter how old you get. Attraction slays all lies. You can't hide it." The smile on Lou's face was bittersweet. Though Alessa shared very little about herself, she revealed so much without ever knowing it. Lou understood Alessa's hidden feelings, and wondered if Alessa knew Denny felt the same way. "Good luck tomorrow, if I don't see you before then," she offered before leaving, taking her empty bag of chips and astute, uncomfortable observations with her.



Trivial Pursuits Ch. 06



Dear Readers,

Thanks for all your comments and votes and emails. To the complaints it's too G-Rated, don't worry, we are working our way to the X-side of life...but not before our characters get there emotionally. This chapter should answer some questions that I think have been frustrating some of you, and help get the action moving as well. 

Don't forget to vote and give me any feedback you have. And thanks to AlreadyTaken for her stellar editing work!

Enjoy

Titania

******

CHAPTER SIX





Trivial Pursuits Ch. 06



Denny studied her, his body half turned to her with his arm over the back of the plush booth. "Why awful?"

But pink cheeks weren't the only thing the alcohol affected. Suddenly, she didn't care if he knew, in fact, a little part of her wanted to be free of her secret. "I thought we were in love. All of our friends were doing it, even though I was just a freshman. I just wanted him to love me. And I thought it would be good, you know? I had all these feelings, I wanted him to touch me. I wanted to feel good, to have all his promises. But when it actually happened, I don't know. It hurt. It was awkward. It was embarrassing. It was kind of gross. And the moment he was in, it stopped. All the sexual feelings I was having just stopped. He came before the pain even went away. Less than a minute," she concluded morosely.

She took her wine glass and slowly twirled it back and forth, watching the last of the liquid remain motionless even though glass moved about it.

"It was one of the most devastating disappointments in my life," she admitted with definite regret in her voice. "A week later he talked me into letting him try again, promising he would make sure I had an orgasm," she laughed morosely. "But it was just as boring the second time. Either there was something wrong with me or the entire mystique about sex had been grossly exaggerated. Maybe it's great for the guy, but for the woman? Waste of freaking time." She downed the last of her wine and looked to the stairs, eager for the waiter to come back so she could order another.

"Alessa," Denny began, but she cut him off.

"No, don't try to change my experience for me or try to convince me I had somehow missed something that was there, because I didn't. Besides, I dumped him the next day, was miserable for about a month while he spread rumors of me being a cold fish, threw myself into school, and never looked back. I was just thankful I'd figured it out before wasting my life chasing after something that didn't exist." A memory fluttered in her mind, but she managed to shove it aside, lock it away to keep up her resolve.

Alessa was relieved when the waiter brought their food. She ordered another drink, as did Denny, and dug in to her fish. The new distraction of their food allowed Denny time to contemplate everything she had thus far shared. Intuitively, he realized there was a disconnect in what she claimed and yet what she did, and eventually he began to wonder about her old penchant for writing erotica and why she ever stopped. But in order to discover the cause, he would have to confess to her his own marred past. And so, when he had made a considerable dent in his food, he braved what he had been holding back since she first walked into his office so many weeks ago.

"When you came for your interview, didn't it feel as though we had met before?"

Alessa's eyebrows drew down in suspicion. "Actually, yeah, it kind of did," she cautiously agreed.

Denny's mouth was tight for a moment before he took a deep breath and continued. "The first time you probably didn't notice me. It was when you took those classes at Stanford. I was in your poli-sci class." He gave a begrudging, half smile. "I was impressed by how intelligent you seemed, by your answers and your drive to impress the professor. And I thought you were cute then," he admitted, a quick glance up at her before looking back down at his steak.

Alessa blushed, and though she didn't want to, she couldn't keep from smiling. "You did?"

"Yeah, but you were just a teenager so I didn't bother."

"Oh." When he remained silent she asked him about the second time.

"What if I told you I have a history of acting like a jerk to you?"

She frowned. "I'm not sure I follow. When else have we met?"

Again he was silent, each step of his confession required a monumental reaffirming of his desire to be completely honest. "Do you ever play trivia?" he asked in a new direction of questioning.

Again she looked puzzled. "You mean like Trivial Pursuit, the game?"

He shook his head and downed his drink. "No, like trivia, quiz bowls, at pubs and stuff." His eyes lifted to hers.

Denny could feel the immediate change in her, her body stiffening and her expression taut, and his gut tightened. She spoke slowly, cautiously. "Not really. Not for a long time. I played a couple of times with a group of girls I was acquainted with back in college." They were both silent a moment before she spoke again. "Are you saying we met one of the times I was there playing?"

Denny slowly nodded.

Her expression screwed up in even more discomfort. "And you're saying we interacted and you were a jerk?" she clarified, not wanting to believe her suspicions.

Again he nodded.

"The alley," she breathed.

He gave one, single, solitary nod.

She was silent while she processed all the implications of his wordless confession. Denny watched in near anguish as a myriad of emotions passed across her expressive face. He saw shock, despair, anger, fear, and then guarded calculation. When she at last spoke, he began carefully rebuilding his bridge to her.

"Why are you telling me this now?"

He was thankful that she didn't slap him or demand he get away from her, and to him, that was a welcome sign. "What I did was wrong, believe me, I regret it fully. I had too much to drink, and your team...well, they annoyed the shit out of me and I just wanted to punish the lot of you for winning. And you, you were just this aloof, unattainable ice princess and you didn't even care you were single handedly beating us, beating me. And then I figured you must be cheating, you know, looking on your phone for answers."

Alessa groaned at the mention of her phone, doubtless remembering when he had taken it from her. She put her forehead in her hand. "Denny, I really don't want to talk about this."

"Too bad, because this is exactly what we're talking about," he said firmly, scooting closer so they were touching, his arm still on the back of the booth. "I don't get it. I checked you out. Checked your stories out," he admitted, confirming her deepest fear. "Not only are you a good writer, but you were writing erotica. Fucking-hot erotica. How can you say you aren't interested in sex when clearly you are. Or at least were."

Alessa looked up at him, her angry eyes spearing him. She didn't pay any mind to the fact she was practically nestled into his side. "That's right. I was until I was nearly attacked in an alley and scared out of my friggin' mind."

Denny was quiet a moment. "Really? You stopped writing because of me?"

"What do you expect? You come out of nowhere in the middle of a dark alley to verbally abuse me, libel me, falsely accuse me of cheating, and then you steal my phone and discover my mortifying secret. Yeah, how the fuck do you think I felt?" she whispered harshly, her eyes shifting down the way to other booths to make sure no one overheard their conversation. "I couldn't keep writing after that."

"What do you mean?"

She gave an exasperated sigh and stared angrily across the table to the half wall partitioning them from the restaurant. "Did you read those stories?"

"Of course. How could I not? They were very good."

"Did you notice what they were about? What their theme was?"

"You mean sex?"

"No, you idiot."

"Oh, you mean the fact that they were about rape sort of stuff?"

"It's called non-consensual," she corrected. "Growing up in high school, in college, I thought that's what I liked, that's what turned me on. But when it almost happened, it made me sick. When I got home that night, I puked and couldn't stop crying because I was so scared. I couldn't sit at my computer and write any more of those stories. It just wasn't the same. The only thing that was left after that night was nausea. It wasn't a fantasy anymore; it was real. And I realized real life isn't as good as fantasy sex. It's a lie we build up because we need something, but it never does it for us. And so, after that, my lingering desires for sex effectively died. Real life is awful," she surmised bleakly.

"Alessa, sweetheart," Denny said, his heart breaking at what he had done. "It isn't awful."

"That's what you think," she intoned drily, and turned to finish off the second cocktail the waiter had brought her.

"Sweetheart, listen, sex can be uh-mazing. Now maybe you don't turn into a crazed, sex maniac, but it's about the best feeling, and not just the orgasm...all of it: connecting with someone, touching someone, having them touch you. Sex is the ultimate pleasure."

"That's a complete lie," she refused to believe.

"If sex is such a lie, why the stories at all?"

The alcohol was coursing through her like a truth serum, but even that truth was too painful to admit to, too confusing and full of despair, and so, despite the pull to confess everything, she kept it back and instead glossed over it, giving more half-truths and general lamentations. Alessa's expression was dismal as she looked into her empty glass. 

"I tried to leave it alone. When I broke up with him, I did nothing but study. I thought I could get past it. But those urges wouldn't leave, not when I was silent and still. So I turned to erotic stories. It started with romance novels, but as I got older my need seemed to morph, and I craved stories about, well, you know. And, of course, I put myself into the characters, no matter how much bullshit nonsense it was. It was my therapy, I guess. Living my fantasy from a safe distance. But after you and the alley, I couldn't believe the lie anymore, that even though it wasn't real it was just as good. So I stopped writing and just focused on school." Denny didn't miss her quiet tears that were rolling unannounced down her pink cheeks.

"Alessa, sweetheart," he murmured, his arm dropping to nestle around her shoulders and pulling her a few inches closer. The moment his arm was around her, she turned into him so her head rested under his chin. He could feel the small shake of her shoulders though she didn't make a sound. After a time, Denny lifted his hands to her face, cradling it and brushing away her tears with his thumbs.

He kissed her temple, comfortable and natural. When she raised no objections, he placed another at the side of her cheek, and then under her eye, and down along the side of her nose. His lips stopped just before they touched hers. He was staring at her when her eyes drifted up to his, red with tears dotted on her lashes.

"Alessa," he whispered again, but she began to pull back, weary from it all.

He watched as she smoothed out her clothes and cleared her throat before reaching for her water glass. He saw the waiter coming and pulled out his wallet before he arrived. "Alessa, would you like any dessert?" he asked, though knew she would decline. 

He gave the waiter his card, and the two sat in silence while the waiter took care of their bill. As soon as he returned they stood to leave, and Alessa was grateful Denny was behind her as she swayed on her feet. "I guess I don't typically drink so much," she mumbled in defense when his two hands landed on either of her hips to steady her.

Denny then took her by the hand and led her down the stairs, ready to grab her if needed. But Alessa made it to the door without incident. When they stepped out into the cool night air, she looked down at their joined hands, and when she lifted her eyes to his, Denny waited for her to pull away. She surprised him when, instead, she turned to head back toward the car, their hands still clasped.

Denny was lamenting how all her defenses would fall if only he could kiss her, when they passed a particularly dark section of the path. Suddenly, he had a plan.

"I know you think sex isn't thrilling, but give me a chance to show you how good it can be. I know I can convince you in two minutes that sex, and all you've fantasized about it, isn't overrated," he challenged, pulling on the hand he was holding to bring them to a stop in the darkest shadow.

"Two minutes? Talk about premature ejaculation," she muttered, to which Denny chuckled. "I'm not letting you sleep with me just so you can prove a point," she replied incredulously.

"Hell, who said anything about sleeping together. Just kissing can be phenomenal. Didn't you ever make out?"

"A couple of times," she responded.

"Yeah, but you were just in high school, and if he was as bad as you claim, I bet he didn't have kissing down either. Let me convince you; just a two minute kiss can change your mind; I know you want to. I know you're attracted to me just as much as I'm attracted to you. Don't try to deny it, you're not a good enough liar. Besides, if you're right and reality isn't as good as fantasy, if there is nothing there, then what do you have to worry about?" 

She leveled a hard gaze at him. "Okay, you got me. I'm attracted to you. But Denny, that's where it has to end."

"Why? Who made all these silly rules that are keeping you bound up? What's their purpose? Because from what I can tell, you aren't happy because of them. Not really happy." He took a step closer. "Come on, Alessa, just one kiss. Let me convince you. Let me show you." His hands were gentle on her as he pulled her tightly into him. "Just two minutes can change your life."

"Denny," Alessa sighed, her heart tearing in two. And though she wanted him to be right, she was just as frightened of that possibility as she was as if he was wrong. For if he was right, where would that leave her? 

Holding onto a desire with no promise it would last.

"Just one kiss, Alessa," he begged softly, his mouth but a whisper away.

She whimpered, caught and miserable, knowing that by the need for that one kiss he pleaded for, it would be her undoing. 

One hand was cupping her face, his thumb rubbing over her parting lips. "One kiss."



Trivial Pursuits Ch. 07



Dear Readers,

Welcome back to another story. I'm sorry the chapters a short and teasing, but it is my hope to keep them coming regularly so the wait shouldn't be too long.

Thanks again to AlreadyTaken for her stellar help!

Enjoy!

Titania

********

CHAPTER SEVEN





Trivial Pursuits Ch. 07



She raised her eyebrows. "Don't tell me you're a closet dom?"

He frowned. "What? No." 

"Well, just saying, if you're looking for advice, it'll cost you." She gave another half grin and lifted her empty bottle. "Another round and we'll call it even." Denny chuckled and then motioned for the bartender. When their beers were delivered and they'd both taken another satisfying drink he continued. 

"I'm fucked," he sighed lamentably. "I'm completely hooked on this girl from work."

"Ah," she said with a Cheshire grin. "Go on, tell me all about her. Don't leave anything out."

Denny only thought a moment before the existence of Alessa poured from his mouth in unhurried, often poetic and rhythmic tones. "She's the new associate at the firm. She's intelligent as fuck; driven. She excels like a fucking Bugatti. She's fluent in Korean, Cantonese and French. She's been my right hand in the new overseas expansion for one of my clients. Partners are itching to groom her. Went to Berkeley when she could have gone to Harvard. She's a control freak. Runs every evening at six straight up, though I think she sneaks off during the day if I've irritated her. She's frugal and healthy. She's reserved, but when she smiles...like diamonds in the sun."

"She sounds nauseatingly wonderful," Max commented drily. "So the problem is..."

"I can't get her to give me a chance."

"You're not good enough for her?"

"No, that's not it."

"Denny, if someone isn't attracted to you with all your good looks, intelligence, success, charisma, then it's not going to happen, no matter how much you may be into her. I mean, you are probably attractive to seventy-five percent of the population, and if she's in that narrow margin that just doesn't appreciate you, then she never will be. You should let her go."

He gave a self-deprecating smirk. "Only seventy-five percent, huh?" Max laughed at that and reached over to rub his shoulder. "Being attracted to me is not the issue. She does want me, just as much as I want her."

"Then what's the problem?"

Denny was silent, staring at the city scape of glass liquor bottles lining the bartender's shelves. He had a few false starts, trying to figure out how to explain. "It's long; it's complicated."

"Well, I've got time as long as I've got beer," Max encouraged with a sly smile.

Denny sighed and began. "I first met Alessa-"

"Alessa? That's her name?"

"Yeah."

"It's pretty."

"Thanks."

"I wasn't complimenting you, you Neanderthal. But go on."

"I first met her back in college. She was in one of my summer classes."

"She reject you then, too?"

"No. I didn't even approach her. She was just seventeen, a kid. She'd gotten a scholarship to attend a few college courses over the summer. When I found out she was still in high school I passed. But then a few years later I saw her again. You know how Tom and Jake and some of the guys and I like to play trivia at The Colony?"

"Yeah, you never invited me to go," she pouted angrily.

"Well, you can't pick up a girl when you're already with the hottest one there, now can you?" he defended, knowing she'd appreciate his indirect compliment. When she smiled, he continued. "Anyway, she was there with this obnoxious group of girls and they beat us. Correction. They didn't beat us. She beat us. She was their ringer."

Max gave a sound that indicated she understood the hit to his masculine pride that would've been.

"When I recognized her from class, I don't know, something just snapped. Afterwards, I cornered her out in the alley. We had some words. I thought she had been cheating 'cause she kept looking at her phone. But when I stole it from her, I realized she hadn't cheated. She'd been looking at this website; a porn website. She wrote erotica, Max, and I think she was checking the status of her latest story." 

Max expression satisfyingly changed to one of awed shock.

"She grabbed her phone from me and fled. I was too stunned to do anything, and that was the last time I saw her. Seven years ago. That is, until she walked into my office last month. She was one of the applicants for the new associate position."

"But now she works in your office, so that means she was hired...by you?"

"Yeah."

"Well, no wonder she doesn't want to date you. You were an asshole, probably scared her silly."

"No, she didn't even remember it at the time. But during her interview, with the way I treated her-"

"How did you treat her?" Max cut in again with a furrowed brow.

Denny's head slunk on his shoulders. "Well, you could say I was a bit...aggressive."

"How would she describe it?" she questioned knowingly.

"She called me a jerk."

Max lifted her eyebrows. "I've never known you to be a jerk. Or mean or unfair. Why would you treat her that way?"

"I don't know," he admitted uncomfortably. "Her confidant, know-it-all attitude just made me want to...I don't know, pinch her or something."

Max had no immediate reply, but narrowed her eyes at him thoughtfully. "Go on," she encouraged.

"Well, in her interview I realized I did want her; that for as riling as she was, I...liked her. I was attracted to her. And I thought hiring her would be my only opportunity to get close to her. Of course, Macrae saw right through me."

Max snorted. "I bet Macrae just wanted her for herself."

"You are too damn good," Denny admitted with some amount of cynical awe that Max saw straight to the heart of any person's motives. But he supposed that's what a double major in pre-law and psychology would get you. "But, yeah, you're right. Not long after Alessa started, Jude came to my office and wanted to know my intentions."

Max smirked with a knowing lift of her eyebrows and a cocky shake of her head as she tilted her beer back, before steering their conversation back. "So why's Alessa giving you such a hard time? I mean, if she didn't remember you were the jerk from the alley, and if you've done all you can to be the charmer I know you are, and if she's interested as you claim she is," Max summarized shaking her head, failing to understand the problem, "why are you fucked?"

Denny sighed dejectedly. "I'm fucked, Max, because she's fucked."

"What does that even mean?"

"Because, she's so screwed up; she's terrified of giving me a chance because she doesn't date anyone, at any time. No hand holding, no chocolates, no late nights on the couch, no kisses, and definitely no sex."

Max frowned as she tried to figure out Alessa's possible motives. "What's her story? I mean, has she ever been involved with anyone?"

"Hardly," Denny scoffed. "She hasn't dated since high school. She gave it up, twice, to some jerk of a boyfriend who didn't do anything good for her," he accused miserably.

Max snorted. "Ha! Listen to you talk! As if you were Don Juan at fifteen."

Denny bit the inside of his cheek to keep the frustration down, though he knew she was right. "At any rate," he bit out, "the experience ruined sex for her. And because of that, she hasn't dated anyone since, which you can read as she also hasn't slept with anyone else."

"How old is she?"

"About twenty-seven, I think."

Max frowned. "That's a rather long time to not give it a second chance," she mused. "Especially if she's clearly interested in sex. I mean, why else would she write erotica? Would you describe her as an all-or-nothing sort of girl?"

Denny nodded in confirmation.

"I suppose that could explain it. One try at it was enough to convince her. But still...an awfully long time to not try again if she's still interested."

"There's more. I think to some extent, she's severely limited all her interactions with others, not just in dating, but in everything. She hides behind this veneer of confidence and enthusiasm for her work, but really, she's empty. So she uses work to fill it up. To keep herself going and find some sort of meaning, some sort of satisfaction. And like I said, to use it as a shield, an excuse for not getting involved. I mean, after her parents divorced-"

"Aw, now we're getting somewhere. How old was she?"

"Alessa was probably in the eighth or ninth grade." Max responded by slowly nodding, but said nothing. "Well, she became driven in school, in her running-she ran track in school and college-to win her father's approval."

"So he left and got remarried, am I right?"

"Yeah. I think they had a kid almost immediately. A sister. Alessa dotes on her."

"So she's probably insecure. You said she's pretty?" Max guessed.

"Here, let me show you," he said taking out his phone and pulling up the firm's photo directory of the lawyers. "But she's not insecure. Not only is she annoyingly confident, she doesn't really care about her appearance. Sure, she looks nice, but she isn't vain. You know, there are those women who are all about fashion and their makeup and hair. Alessa's completely oblivious to how gorgeous she is," Denny professed. 

He handed Max the phone when he found Alessa's photo.

Max took one look at the stellar beauty and made a snort of unbelief. "Men are such idiots," she muttered. "That hair takes time," she informed him, passing the phone back. Denny took it and looked at the photo again.

"What does that mean?"

"That hair is flawless. You don't get killer volume and sleek waves like that by just waking up and running your fingers through your hair, my dear boy. Either she went and had it professionally done that morning, which means she does know how to use her looks to her advantage, or this came from years of practice, which indicates she's spent hours of her life to perfect her look. Either way, trust me, she cares," Max assured.

Denny overlaid Max's words with what he saw, the understanding once again reshaping Alessa in his mind.

"But why insecure?" he asked. "If she is concerned with her looks, wouldn't she know that she's gorgeous?"

Max shook her head. "I'm sure she's aware, but in a way, it's probably a lot like anorexia. People who are anorexic are already thin, right? But they don't see themselves that way, or don't see themselves as thin enough."

"I thought anorexia was about control," Denny said.

Max shrugged. "Yeah, it is, and this is probably what it is for her. Her appearance is the easiest thing she can control, but I bet it's a point of some deep-seated insecurity. Think about it. Her father left during a critical time in her development. At fourteen, her body was beginning to really develop. No matter how amicable it may have been between the parents, I bet she felt like she was being abandoned by her father, or even worse, she was the reason he left. She was powerless to stop it, and felt like her father's approval was something she had to earn, instead of the well-adjusted belief that a parent's love is unconditional."

"Looking for love," Denny mumbled, staring into his empty beer. Max asked him to elaborate. He shook his head. "When she told me about her first time, she said she had just wanted the guy to love her."

"Exactly," Max agreed sadly. "But in the end, what happened? She had a terrible experience and was left in even more pain than before it ever happened. And so what did she do?"

"She became an overachieving, workaholic, control freak," Denny answered.

"All the while lying to herself that she didn't want sex or need a relationship. But all of her achievements can't erase her maladapted feelings of insecurity, and that innate need for connection we all share. They just drive her to keep going, to be better and better each time. But each success just becomes like a bite of an empty calorie. She feels satisfied for a time, but really, it just leaves her hungry for more."

"So what the fuck do I do?" he finally asked. "How do I get through to her?"

"Denny, I'm afraid to tell you this, but you're not going to win her over by simply asking her out. She's not going to just suddenly realize 'hey, I like you. Let me drop off all my baggage and we can live happily-ever-after.' It's going to take work."

"Tell me about it," Denny muttered finishing the last of his beer and waggling his bottle to the barkeep.

"What's that supposed to mean? Has something happened?"

"Last night."

"Oh? When you called me?" Max surmised.

"Yeah. I'd just dropped her off. We'd been in the city working and I talked her into letting me take her to dinner."

"So then what happened?"

"She told me about her previous experience, how she hadn't had sex since high school. And then I kissed her. Fuck," he groaned, rubbing his face, "I think I just messed it up worse."

"You kissed her? What was that like?"

"Wanna a play by play?" he asked cynically. But Max only nodded.

Denny reluctantly detailed his kiss with Alessa, telling Max about the whimpers she made when he did something she liked. When Max asked if it made him hard, his face was a mixture a frown and smile, but he admitted the truth despite any embarrassment. He explained how they ended up with him pressing her against the wall grinding into her, but how she had frozen when those people walked by whistling at them. 

"I was so certain that if I could just kiss her," his voice trailed. "In the end, she was just as closed off as before. Maybe more so."

"Because you destroyed her reality, no doubt," his confidant supplied. "You made her want sex, even though she'd dedicated her adult life to the belief she's immune from its allure." Max was silent for many minutes before she declared she was done and wanted him to walk her home. Denny paid for the drinks and together they walked out into the cool, fall night. Max looped her arm through his and eventually spoke despite their comfortable silence.

"If you are serious about a relationship with this woman, like I said, it's going to take work. And she's going to need to actively participate in healing herself. Despite how much she may want you, those burdens are strapped to her back like barnacles to a ship, and they're not coming off because of one good kiss. Hell, because of a thousand. But short of going to therapy, I think you could help her."

"And how do you suggest I do that?" he questioned incredulously, his pain that she continued to shut him out evident to Max.

"There are elements of what I do, of what I already talked to you about that I think could be very helpful," Max began. She could tell by the disgruntled, disbelieving expression he wore that he didn't agree.

"I'm not suggesting you turn into a dom and make her your sub. Developing those sorts of relationships takes years of training and a dedicated lifestyle that isn't for everyone. But I do think the approach to relationships and sexuality, like the communication, speaking frankly about her issues and devising little therapeutic scenarios, can help you. Help her. It will take time, gentleness, and a whole hell of a lot of skill, but I think you could pull it off. If you care enough about her to want to put in the time and effort, if you always believe she's worth it, I think you could do it."

They walked several blocks up a steep hill before Denny spoke again. "But how do I even begin? How do I get her to give me a chance?"

Max was silent as she thought about a million different scenarios until at last all she could offer was, "She can't be forced to do this, to enter into a relationship. But she may need to be...maneuvered into discussing it, for you to present your plan to her. But no matter what, the most important thing for you to remember, is that she has to know you will be dependable. You can't get tired of her in a few months or you'll just wind up doing even more damage to her. Denny, if you want this to work, you have to convince her you're as committed as the light is to the sun."



Trivial Pursuits Ch. 08







Trivial Pursuits Ch. 08



"That's probably best," he intoned with a wicked smile.

She walked about the room as she read the short, single-page document. She quickly analyzed the general rules of the date, which were that anyone could bid on any person; the person bid on was contracted to the bidder for three hours to begin at a reasonable place and time of the bidder's choosing; that all expenses of the date were to be covered by said bidder; and there was no obligation to the bidder beyond conversation. Alessa's brow furrowed when she read that if the person bid on failed to appear without a reasonable excuse or failed to comply with a reasonable rescheduling for the date, or failed to fulfill the three-hour stipulation, she would be required to indemnify the firm against the refund of the full bid to the bidder. She didn't know how much the bids usually ran for, but all her money was budgeted away for other purposes, and spending it on repaying the firm was not for what she had designated its use.

Other than that concern, the rules seemed fair and straightforward, and none of them were beyond what Alessa would feel comfortable binding herself to. She only mulled it over an extra minute, taking a small amount of gratification in the fact that being asked to stand in as a date was an honor in the firm, even if it somehow felt like she was being reduced to the equivalent of a prize cow. She also took a small amount of hope that someone would bid on her and make Denny green with envy. Perhaps Hyun-Joong.

"Fine. I'll sign," she relented and walked back to him. 

"Here, Sweetheart," he offered holding out a pen.

She scribbled her name quickly. When she finished, she slammed his pen down, and looking up to glower at him, she demanded, "Stop calling me sweetheart and stop kissing me."

Denny only looked at her frowning mouth that was within reach. His hand went up to caress her neck and then her jaw before he looked into her startled, rabbit-like eyes. "I would if I could, Sweetheart." Mesmerized as she was by the delicious sensation of his fingertips on her skin and the look of tenderness in his eyes, she didn't pull back when he leant forward and gave her a warm, but gentle and chaste kiss on her mouth.

Again she was shaken. Again, she was unnerved. She turned to get her copies to flee, but then Denny cursed loudly.

"Damn!" he hissed.

When she turned around, she saw that his coffee had spilt and was flooded across her contract. 

She reacted to the immediacy of his voice and stepped closer to him, looking at his hands. "Did you burn yourself?" she asked with concern evident in her voice.

"No. Why? Worried about me?" he asked with an exasperating, cocky smile.

She straightened herself back, her alarmed and caring expression melting into shuttered indifference that he was instantly sorry for. Alessa looked down at the pool of coffee on her contract.

"It's ruined," she stated flatly. "My name's blurred out. Aren't you supposed to use indelible ink?" she muttered, aching to leave, but now being caught to lag behind.

"Sorry. Clumsy. I guess a kiss can do that," he admitted with no amount of shame. She scowled at him while he opened the dry folder and pulled out a clean contract. "Don't worry. I have more copies. Just sign it again."

Sighing, she took the pen from him, inked her name quickly. She grabbed the book and her copies from the machine and fled, not even saying goodbye.

Denny watched her flee, and then lifted the newly signed contract to skim over it, a smug look of triumph glittering in his eyes.

A rattled Alessa marched off to her desk where she unceremoniously dumped the several large volumes and numerous copies before dashing to the ladies' room. Flinging the door wide, she nearly collided with a person leaving.

"Fuck!" she hissed, startled in her already upset state. When she realized it was a senior partner, furthermore the head of personnel, her hand snapped up to her gaping mouth.

"Oh, Ms. Macrae! I am so sorry. You frightened me," she rushed to explain.

Macrae wore her typical cat smile as she took in Alessa's distressed state.

"No worries. No harm done. Besides, I like the occasional 'fuck' myself," she replied coolly, meaningfully, her swaggering smile growing.

Alessa gave out a breathy laugh of relief and nodded, the former weights of her mind coming back quickly. She mumbled an 'excuse me' as she stepped past Jude and walked into the bathroom. Her heels clacked on the black tile floor, sounding dense and hollow at the same time. She stopped in front of the sink and began running the cold water. She splashed some on her face, and then wiped away the stress.

"What's wrong with you?" Macrae asked bluntly as she came back to stand by Alessa.

"Nothing," Alessa assured, frowning as she shook her head. "I'm just..."

"Stressed?" Macrae asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"What? No, of course not. I'm fine. Absolutely fine," she continued shaking her head, a silent denial to what her words were proclaiming. "I can handle anything," she firmly stated, looking Macrae's reflection in the eyes.

Despite the bravado Alessa attempted, Macrae knew the truth. "Come on, then-grab your coat."

"What?" Alessa could only ask confused.

"Your coat. It's still raining out. You'll need it. I'm taking you for a drink."

*****

I know this chapter was short so I've gone ahead and uploaded the following chapter as well. Enjoy!



Trivial Pursuits Ch. 09



Dear Readers,

So sorry this story wasn't posted right after Ch. 8 like I promised. I went through the whole submittal process and thought it was a done deal, but when I went back to check on their status a day later, I saw for some reason 9 hadn't saved.

Thanks again to AlreadyTaken for all her editing and advice!

Titania

******************

CHAPTER NINE





Trivial Pursuits Ch. 09



"You actually did it?" Lou asked amazed.

Alessa had sat down on the plush settee to lean against the wall, dying chuckles and harsh breathing causing her chest to rise and fall deeply. She wiped the tears from her face and looked at Lou. The humor didn't fall away completely, but a seriousness had crept in.

"Yeah," she breathed at last. "Yeah, he kissed me, and I let him."

"I was only guessing," Lou continued on in amazement, sitting down next to Alessa.

"You actually kissed him?" Octo asked with a smile, more pleased than anything.

Alessa took a deep breath, sighing as she faced her predicament. "Denny took me out to dinner one day after we had been out working on this case. I had a bit too much to drink, and we got talking about things..." she trailed in recalling their conversation. "Anyway, he was trying to convince me, and said he could with a two-minute kiss."

"Of what was he convincing you?" Lou asked confused.

Alessa opened her mouth to speak, but then looked at her sister who had joined them on the little cushioned bench, and only shook her head. "To give him a chance, I suppose."

"And did you? Is he your boyfriend?" Octo asked, her hand clasping her sister's, and her head leaning on Alessa's shoulder.

Alessa was silent the longest time until at last she simply shook her head, a forlorn expression on her face. "I thought that maybe, when he kissed me again--"

"Again? He's kissed you twice? When did that happen," Lou asked in surprise.

Alessa was beginning to wonder if saying anything at all had been a monumental mistake, but it was too late now to deny anything. "The other night, Thursday. It was late and I was in the copy room down in the library. He came in and said I had been chosen to be part of the date auction. I'm not certain why, but I was upset with him. Maybe because I didn't know how I felt about the first time he kissed me. And I think he was deliberately pushing my buttons. Anyway, I had thought he was going to stop this silly game, but he just kissed me again, saying he had never said that he had any intention of stopping." Unknowingly, Alessa was touching her fingers to her lips, remembering the sensation of Denny against her mouth.

Lou and Octo both silently stared at her. She was still clearly lost in a pleasant memory, and they shared a knowing look. Alessa stood to pace around the small, but luxurious fitting room, and the two girls adjusted their positions, filling the bench. 

"You know," Lou began, "I bet it was all Denny's doing to get you to participate. That way, he can win a date with you and sweep you off your feet," she surmised.

"How romantic," Octo cooed.

"Oh, please. Denny is a work colleague. And regardless of any interest he may or may not have, he is not going to cause a scandal by publicly bidding for me just for a measly date," Alessa countered. "Okay, now you two, you've given your opinion on this piece, though it was hardly necessary. I'd like to just buy it and go, so will you please leave so I can get changed?" she commanded more than asked.

"Sure. Come on, Cadence," Lou ushered, feeling hungry and ready for food. After Alessa had changed and paid for her items, Lou offered to take the two sisters out for dinner as thanks for allowing her to crash their sister-bonding time. Alessa was going to refuse, but decided if Lou wanted to, she could.

Dinner was fun, and to Alessa's relief there was no more talk of Denny or his kisses the rest of the evening. Lou entertained the two with her wild stories, and late that evening, Alessa and Octo poured themselves into her bed.

As they lay in dark with the moonlight filling the sky window above their heads, Octo reached under the blanket to hold her sister's hand.

"Tell me about Denny," she requested softly, with none of the lascivious interest Lou had displayed. Alessa could hear the interest and concern in her voice, and smiled that her sister cared. 

"What do you want to know?" she whispered softly, somehow not wanting to break the magic with her voice.

"What does he look like?"

Alessa chuckled, finding a fourteen-year-old's priorities to be somehow shallow and meaningful at the same time. "Well, he's tall with dark brown hair. He has glittering hazel eyes. His mouth is...nice," she supplied instead of her original thought of 'sexy.' "He smiles a lot."

"Is he strong?"

Alessa smiled. "Yeah, I'd say he's pretty strong. I'm sure he goes to the gym."

"Is he smart? What's he like? Is he arrogant? Do you guys fight?"

"Yeah. He's very smart. He's a hard worker, too. And remember, hard work--"

"Is more important than intelligence. I know, you've told me a million times."

"That's only because it's true, and I don't want you to forget it. Anyway, he's a junior partner. I think he knows Japanese. He's into architecture. He draws. He's brave. He's clever. He's caring and interested and concerned. He smells warm and spicy. He wears suspenders," she admitted with a smile in her voice. "He makes my stomach curl like a large wave coming out from sea."

"And when he kisses you?" Octo whispered.

"When he kisses me...I can't think of anything or anyone else in the world."

"Like he was made to kiss you."

"Yeah, like he was made to kiss me," she ended in a whisper, her eyes long closed, her head now filled with thoughts of Denny, and oysters, and late nights with kimchi soup.

The weekend was over too quickly, and after a run together in the park and brunch at the local cafe, Alessa drove Octo home with a promise to think about allowing her to come over while she got ready for the party. On Monday, she was back at work early, the knowledge that she was already making a noticeable wave in the pool of the higher ups spurring her on to continue excelling at her work. And though the office climate was abuzz with the upcoming fundraiser, Alessa's work seemed to continue to pile in; every morning she arrived her task list seemed to have doubled. 

Despite her initial repulsion to the idea, her opinion of the upcoming auction began to morph as she experienced an ever-increasing excitement whenever she thought about herself in that dress and her mystery date. 

Granted, the idea of the date made her stomach tighten in apprehension, but she always reminded herself that it was no more than a business dinner, and not an actual date. There were no romantic expectations, and it was merely a fun way to mingle and raise money. And though she officially told herself she hoped Hyun-Joong was her highest bidder, her mind, on occasion, would slip into fantasy of Denny paying the most for her. Thoughts of his kisses were never far from her conscious, working mind, and she recognized that she was spending a great amount of her energy roping her attention back to the task at hand.

And though Denny strangely kept a professional distance, he had caught her, on more than one occasion, staring at him. And he knew it too, damn it, knew exactly what she was thinking. She saw it in the just-perceptible turn up of the corner of his mouth and the sparking of his eyes. He knew exactly what her thoughts were, and she couldn't stop the simultaneous jumping of her heart and burning of her anger.

Octo had texted her nearly every single day, begging to let her come over, until at last Alessa relented and arranged with Lou that if she wanted to do her hair and makeup she would need to come over to Alessa's. Alessa also stated she would hire a car for them to get to the party. That way, Octo could spend the night Friday and spend the day with her, and their father could pick her up just before she and Lou left for the fundraiser. All parties involved were in agreement, and with a plan in place, Alessa realized there was nothing left but to prepare herself to mingle and dazzle like a glittering cosmopolitan.



Trivial Pursuits Ch. 10



Dear Readers,

Welcome back to another chapter. Hope you are still enjoying the story, despite any frustrations with the slow build up...but I promise change is coming fast!

Again, let me know your thoughts, good, bad or whatever, and rate if you want.

Thanks to AlreadyTaken for an awesome job at editing.

Enjoy!

Titania

******

CHAPTER TEN





Trivial Pursuits Ch. 10



"I did. After all, you are mine," he answered unaffectedly.

"What?" she asked sharply, glowering up at him.

"My associate. I hired you, so there is a certain amount of responsibility I have for how you reflect on the firm, not to mention the credit I get for being clever enough to hire you," he finished with a wide grin. "Now, smile," he whispered as he steered her to another group of people. 

This time, they weren't all strangers as she saw Jude in a breathtaking satin gown. The golden-beige fabric was draped over one shoulder, leaving the other bare. There were pleats and gatherings at asymmetrical angles making her highly reminiscent of a roman goddess. The only jewelry she wore was a wide, heavy gold band high around her bare arm. Her hair was long in its typical fashion, curling down her back.

She also noted in the group was a short, slightly round man who was balding at the top of his head. The white hair that ran round the perimeter was downy and longer than she would have thought was professional. He had a matching, thick mustache and thick glasses so his eyes appeared larger behind them than they really were. She had seen pictures of him frequently enough round the office to know he was the chairman of the board of Wiles, Mayer, and Schecter LLP.

Mr. Schecter's pleasant, beguiling appearance belied the daunting fact that the senior partner had been the preeminent negotiation lawyer in the state, and quite possible the country, with candid and sometimes shockingly blunt tactics. He was shorter than she would have imagined, but the moment he spoke, his Queens accent was exactly as she expected. His Jewish heritage was evident in his eyes, his nose, and his voice and made her instantly smile. He was charm itself, and when they were at last introduced, she knew it was love at first sight.

"So you are the very talented Ms. Allen I have been hearing so much about. Ms. Macrae has nothing but the best to say about you."

Her eyes darted to the tall and svelte Jude who stood with her champagne flute in her hand as though it were a glamourous cigarette holder. A golden eyebrow arched at Alessa, a smile playing just on the other side of her lips.

"I am so very pleased to hear it, Mr. Schecter."

"And how are you liking working at our firm?"

"Very much. It is exactly as I had hoped for."

"Finding enough to keep you interested?"

Alessa checked the impulse to look at Denny, knowing he was smirking at the answer that was doubtless at the front of her mind. Yes, she was very interested in what she had found at Wiles, Mayer, and Schecter, but she didn't think that was the answer the old partner was after.

"Alessa has the best dedication to her case load I have ever seen," Denny offered chuckling. "Puts the rest of us to shame."

She barely held back the blush that was just on the inside of her skin, while struggling to ignore him and any unease he caused.

"And are you enjoying your time this evening?" a middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair asked. Denny had introduced him as Peter McConnell, a member of the Omniliance board, and a client of her firm. 

"It is certainly a gorgeous party, that can't be argued," she replied with a smile, hoping some amount of dazzle showed through to give her words credence. 

"Any particular charities you are found of?"

Alessa was caught a moment as her brain quickly scrambled to form a suitable answer. After all, she didn't generally donate to any charities. She wasn't comfortable with the idea of handing over money to nebulous enterprises where the majority of her contribution went to overhead costs for running the charity, instead of addressing the actual purpose of the charity. But she knew of one that she had given money to in the past and would do so again in the future.

"The Alameda food bank I think is a very well-run institution. With your donated finances, they are able to buy fresh, whole foods and distribute them to populations who don't have access to healthy food. Unlike other food banks where people simply donate food already bought, most often cans or unhealthy, easy-to-make dinners, this food bank pools the financial resources and can buy vegetables and such at whole-market price. That means the money you donate actually goes further than if you were to just buy some extra cans from your grocery store and donate them. They also run on a large volunteer basis so there is less over-head."

"I didn't know that," said Mr. Schecter. "The poor are important to you?"

She opened her mouth but paused, daring to take a leap. "As cliché as it may sound, there are a lot of hard working people in the world who struggle to make ends-meet. And sometimes, it's not so much that people are completely destitute despite their hard work, but that in spite of it, they can't advance; there is no wiggle room to make just a five dollar gain a month. Organizations like the food bank are tools for people to make small steps up in the world."

"But the poor will always exist," someone commented.

"True, but so should generosity and the unflinching resolve to ease the lives of those around us," she countered. "I'm not saying the food bank will end poverty for all time, but it will be a great benefit to some, and who knows what future Einstein or Schweitzer or Salk will have a chance to contribute to the world because they were supported by their community."

"I hope I am not interrupting," someone spoke from behind Alessa. She turned and smiled at seeing Hyun-Joong standing there smiling down at her.

"Denny, good to see you," he greeted smiling at his friend, giving him a firm handshake.

"Hyun-Joong, glad you could make it. You know Mr. Schecter and Jude Macrae," Denny said before introducing him to the other people standing around. Questions were asked and chit-chat was made, until eventually Hyun-Joong turned his attention down on Alessa.

"Actually, as nice as it is to meet you all, I came over to ask Ms. Allen if she would dance with me," he said smiling.

Alessa smiled immediately, but then glanced at Denny to see his reaction. His expression was contained, with a mixture of amusement and challenge glittering in his eyes. Though it should have meant nothing, after all, she was attending the party for the very purpose of mingling with clients, she could feel the tension rising in him. 

"Yes, thank you Mr. Park, I think a dance is exactly what I need," she accepted with a smile, and as she placed her hand in his, she turned back to Denny, giving him a look of smiling defiance.

"You were having quite a lively conversation," Hyun-Joong commented as he pulled her into his arms, leading their bodies to sway in time with the music.

"Yes, and thank you for saving me."

"Saving you? It sounded as if you were doing quite well for yourself," he commented, pulling her deep into the swirling crowd.

"Well, exactly. My purpose here is to prove that I belong. It's all a big test, really, and quite frankly, I needed a break from being so damn clever," she grumbled, tired of being forced to converse with strangers.

Hyun-Joong threw his head back and gave a shout of laughter. He knew she hadn't meant to sound like a braggart, but that was exactly how she had come across. His arms tightened around her. "Well, in that case, I promise you don't have to perform for me. Just be yourself and I'll be satisfied." His embrace was firm, and as Alessa looked up into his smiling brown eyes, she felt the light tingle of butterflies.

"Thanks. It means a lot to me. You know," she said after she had given it some thought, "my firm has selected me to be one of the lucky participants of the date auction later this evening."

"Actually, I did know," he answered with a mock-calculating smile.

"You did? But how-"

Hyun-Joong pulled out the pamphlet for the fundraiser. "They have all the dates listed on here with a short bio. And a photo," he said smiling.

Alessa raised her brows and rolled her eyes. "Of course. I just hope I don't embarrass myself by not getting any bids."

"I wouldn't worry about that," he intoned.

"And why not?"

"It seems as though you are to be the headliner." When she gave him a puzzled look, he explained. "You're going last. They always save the person they expect to get the most bids for last."

"Good grief," she moaned, "I really am nothing more than a show pony, or worse, a freak in a circus," she mumbled miserably. "Still, it is a little scary to think about, knowing you could so easily be mortified by receiving no bids," she mused.

"Will you allow me to put your fears at rest? It just so happens when I saw a date with you was being auctioned, I made certain I had seventy-five thousand transferred to my slush fund account."

"Seventy-five?" she repeated flabbergasted. And then she was horrified. "Oh, Hyun-Joong, you cannot spend that much money on me. It's too ridiculous. It's a waste."

"How is it a waste if the money is simply for charity's sake? After all," he murmured, pulling her a little more tightly, "you haven't exactly promised me a date yet. This could be my only chance."

Alessa could feel a reaction rising within her body, and was disconcerted at its presence. "Hyun-Joong, tonight's date is merely for the sake of networking. To socialize and make connections within the business world. It isn't supposed to be...personal. I wouldn't want you to spend your money on false hopes."

"You just smile as we dance, and leave the hopes to me." 

For the remainder of their dance he asked her about her dress, which led into a discussion about her shopping outing with her sister and Lou. When the music stopped, Hyun-Joong looked back to where he had taken her from and debated escorting her to the opposite side of the room.

"Enjoy the dance?" Denny asked from behind them.

They turned to him, Hyun-Joong's arm slipping from her waist. "Yes, as a matter of fact. Alessa's a great dancer."

She gave a nervous chuckle. "I don't know how I managed that. I really don't ever dance. Must have been my partner," she supplied, smiling up at Hyun-Joong.

"I'm sure that's it. Well, as much as I hate to drag you away from your partner, I should introduce you to other clients," Denny stated, holding his arm out for her. Despite the mild attraction she had felt towards Hyun-Joong, she didn't feel threatened by him as she did with Denny, and so she was reluctant to part from the ease in his presence. She smiled at him in as she slipped her hand on Denny's arm.

"Don't forget your promise," she called as she was pulled away.

"You have my word," Hyun-Joong answered cryptically.

When they were some distance from him, with tens of people in between, Denny asked to what promise she referred. She was tempted to not tell him, to goad him with keeping secrets, but something inside thorned her to tell him. Maybe to let him know she was getting along well with one of his clients. Maybe to make him jealous that someone else valued her. Maybe to hear he wanted to bid for her. Maybe.

"He said he planned on bidding for me."

Denny was silent.

"He said he was willing to go to seventy-five thousand." When they were alone against a wall near the draping, sheer curtains that thinly veiled the city lights outside the window, Denny at last looked down at her.

"And you want to go on a date with him?"

"I told him the date for tonight was not the sort of date he was after," she confided, though she wasn't certain why.

"And what sort of date is he after?" Denny remained strangely calm.

"He took me to lunch one day. He asked if he could see me again. I told him that he was a client, and it was a tricky road to navigate dating a client."

"That's all that held you back?"

She could just discern a tightness to his voice.

"No. That wasn't all." She looked up at him, her eyes held by his sharp gaze. And as she blazed in the fire she saw there, all the attraction she had felt towards Hyun-Joong seemed to burn away. "Denny, I-"

But his hard mouth against hers cut off whatever she was going to say. His kiss was angry and she felt heartbroken that though they were kissing, they weren't connecting. His firm hand on the nape of her neck held her to him until at last he yanked his mouth away to stare into her eyes. But he didn't explain himself as she had expected. Instead he pulled away, taking her by the hand and mumbling something about leaving her with Macrae.

They wove through the crowd like a needle and thread; Denny was sharp and decisive in his movements, and Alessa trailed numbly behind wherever he led. They at last found Macrae in the midst of several distinguished looking men. They were all laughing at something she had said, but when Denny cut in, her eyes narrowed at Alessa. 

"You'll look after her, won't you?" was all he said before he turned to leave her there under the supervision of Macrae as though she were a child in need of a babysitter. 

Alessa was reeling by his behavior, feelings of mortification, indignation, and heartbreak all swirling wildly in a tangled maelstrom. Macrae put a soft hand on her shoulder, drawing Alessa's attention back to her surroundings.

"Gentlemen, may I introduce Alessa Allen. She's one of our new associates. She's already made quite a name for herself." Jude took turns introducing the young associate to the rich clients. Mild conversation was made until Macrae excused them.

She looped her arm through Alessa's and led her to other groups of people mingling. The evening was interspersed with various presentations to highlight the many projects Omniliance was involved in followed by an auction of some category of items to raise money to support it. They auctioned vacation packages, cars, jewelry, paintings, and the affair was to culminate with the date auction.

Alessa felt somewhat brittle after her confrontation with Denny, of whom she hadn't seen but glimpses here and there since. She spoke with Hyun-Joong again, but the conversation was empty and tense. She was asked to dance several more times, even gracing a very eager and not overly-subtle Josh Caplin with a song, and did her best to fake an interested and charming demeanor, though she assumed she failed miserably.

Denny had officially ruined her evening.

It was nearing eleven when Lou found her in a flurry of excitement. It was time to start the bidding for the dates the excited friend announced. Alessa's stomach dropped as Lou ushered her to the far end of the room where all the participants were to meet. Even though she knew it was coming, Alessa somehow had managed to place it from her mind. But now that it had arrived, she was suddenly awash with endless doubt and fear and nerves.

The ten employees were split into male and female factions and seated on either side of the small stage that had been erected. One of Macrae's assistance was there to organize them all according to the order they would appear on stage, and as Alessa took the seat on the end, she scanned the gathering crowd for Denny.

It was some minutes before the auction began, with Jude Macrae and a senior VP from Omniliance performing the small introduction, the niceties of the event explained by the VP and the guidelines for the dates delineated by Macrae. They at last turned the final auction of the evening over to the hands of the distinguished auctioneer who worked at the city's finest auction house.

The first person up was a rather good looking young man Alessa had seen around the office. The auctioneer detailed that he was in the IT department, liked to play rugby, and enjoyed dancing into the early hours of the morning. Much to Alessa's surprise, a woman, perhaps old enough to be his mother, made the final bid at fifteen thousand. There was a great amount of cheering and applauding as the woman stepped forward to escort her young date to the back of the room where all transactions of the night were being completed.

Despite her nerves, Alessa caught herself smiling a few times, and even laughing once when the auctioneer disclosed the current date's secret obsession was volunteering for date auctions. By eleven thirty, only one man was left as Alessa sat alone on her empty row. When she realized she had crumpled the fabric of her dress up in her hands so much the rhinestone were making them sore, she immediately released the skirt and smoothed it out. 

When she looked back up, she saw Hyun-Joong make his way toward the front of the crowd, his eyes on her, his mouth smiling reassuringly. Thus far the top bid had only been thirty-five thousand, and she was a little disappointed that she wouldn't see just how much he was willing to pay for her. Her eyes still wandered over the crowd, and when she looked across the room, she saw him.

Denny was two people deep at the far side of gathering. Despite the distance and dim lighting, the intensity of his eyes was like a spike of heat driving straight through her. Alessa didn't know how long she held his stare, but when the applause roared, she looked around and realized the auctioneer had called for her to come to the stage.

Alessa masked herself with a smile of charm and ease. She walked gracefully to the spot all the others had taken before her, shook hands with the auctioneer and turned to smile out over the audience. Her ears were trained to his words and she felt herself mildly blush at hearing all he had to say.

"Alessa grew up right here in the Bay Area, ran track for UC Berkeley, loves Korean food and oysters, and is the newest associate at Wiles, Meyer, and Schecter. She specializes in international business law, but finds the most enjoyment pretending to be Perry Mason."

While the crowd laughed at her unauthorized bio, she shot Denny a quick, terse look, knowing only he could be responsible for sharing such personal information. But she quickly schooled her expression to smile pleasantly back at the crowd as the man got on with the bidding.

Much to her surprise, and everlasting relief, the bids instantly moved up, and quickly surpassed the thirty-five thousand mark. Alessa beamed at Hyun-Joong when he bid, but she couldn't keep her eyes from drifting to Denny and watched as he only stood there observing the action but not participating once.

She didn't realize she was doing it, but Alessa tried to console herself by assuming he was more than likely waiting until the end to bid. But eventually, when the bid reached fifty-thousand, only three remained and Denny hadn't once given any indication that he was interested. Soon, it was down to Hyun-Joong and a man Alessa hadn't yet met. She watched with growing anxiety as the bid crept ever upward to Hyun-Joong's limit of seventy-five, and still Denny hadn't participated.

She finally understood how much she had not only wanted him to bid on her, but to win the bid when she realized her stomach was knotted because she was waiting for him. And though the two bidders were to her center and right, she couldn't keep from looking to Denny at the far left of the room, her eyes questioning.

"I have seventy-five thousand, do I hear eighty?" 

Alessa turned her attention back to the action. She looked at Hyun-Joong who gave her a lopsided, sad smile and then he shook his head no.

"Seventy-five thousand once. Twice."

The auctioneer held his hand high with the small wooden gavel in his fist. Alessa felt every muscle tighten. She refused to look at Denny again. And then an unpleasant jolt went through her as the hard little piece of wood banged down, declaring an end.

"Sold to the man in the blue suit at seventy-five thousand dollars, ladies and gentlemen!" And the crowd erupted. There was a bevy of movement, everyone stirring excitedly. Alessa stood frozen at the unexpected turn-of-events and attempted a calm smile as the nameless man with brown hair walked forward to the stage to collect his prize.




Trivial Pursuits Ch. 10



"Ms. Allen, it is very nice to meet you. My name is Jacob." He stretched out his hand to assist her from the low stage.

"It is nice to meet you. Thank you-" but she was interrupted by a squealing Lou who nearly bowled her over in her zeal to hug her in congratulations.

"What did I tell you! They'd have paid a million dollars for you if they'd had it," she boasted, nearly squeezing the life out of Alessa. 

"I thought they were millionaires," Alessa mumbled as she tried to extricate herself, but Lou squeezed on.

"You looked so gorgeous. You did amazing! Fantastic! I think that was the highest bid anyone's received. Like. Ever!" she finally released her to smile brightly and then get introduced to the man who paid such an extravagant amount for a single date. "And who are you, then?" she asked, sticking her hand out to shake. "I'm Lou. I work with Alessa."

"Nice to meet you," he greeted politely, if not a little stiff. "I was just about to ask Ms. Allen if she would like to accompany me now so we can get ourselves checked out."

Alessa was a little surprised at how quickly he wanted to leave, but nodded her head at any rate. "You already have a date in mind? I mean, something you want to do?"

"Actually, yes, if you don't mind. We can discuss it in the car. I believe it is waiting out front," he explained as they pushed their way through the crowd. Everyone was clamoring to speak with her, and he had to gently, but firmly place a hand on her arm. She heard a few comments about how eager he was to make good on his date, followed by chuckling.

Though he was polite, he didn't seem too interested in her, and considering how much he had just paid, she was beginning to think his behavior odd. "And what do you do, Mr-?" she asked as they stood in line.

"Anderson, Ms. Allen. And I am involved in the supply side of the market."

Alessa's smile tightened as her eyes narrowed. "That is a little vague, isn't it?"

"Generalization allows for a greater variance in what I do."

Alessa chuckled. "Sounds as ambiguous as working for the mob." 

But Jacob Anderson only looked at her with a rather bland expression.

Somehow, this date for mingling was suddenly careening out beyond the parameters she could control. And so she kept trying to uncover the root of her suspicions. "I was quite surprised the bidding got as high as it did. Tell me, why me? I mean, had you planned on bidding on a me specifically, or was I just the last one and you didn't want to leave the party alone?" she tried to ask with a teasing laugh.

"You specifically, Ms. Allen."

Her forced laughter faded easily in the sobriety of his answer. They were at last to the table to check out. Alessa no longer felt safe with this man. He pulled a silver credit card from his wallet and handed it to the blonde sitting there to take his payment. Alessa opened her mouth to speak to the woman smiling in congratulations at both Mr. Anderson's high bid and Alessa's honor at such a price, but nothing came out as she immediately remembered she would be responsible for covering the cost of the bid should she choose to not fulfill her end of the agreement. And after all, she had nothing concrete to object to, no rules he had broken.

Suddenly she was searching around for Lou. "Excuse me," she said to Jacob when she spied her friend, cutting off the blonde who was asking what fun they were going to have that night, and then dashed to Lou before he could stop her.

"I know it's silly," Alessa explained immediately without allowing Lou any chance to speak, "but I really don't know this guy from Adam. I want you to text me every thirty minutes, so for a three hour date that should be six times by the time I get back to my home. I'll just text you back a name of each of the shops we went to, how does that sound? So if I don't answer or don't text back only the names, then can you do something?"

Lou's brow was furrowed. "Sure thing, but you really don't think anything will happen, do you?"

"No, of course not, it's only-"

"Ms. Allen, are you ready?" Jacob spoke from behind her.

She had been leaning down to whisper in Lou's ear, and when she heard his voice, she straightened up, with a resigned look.

Lou smiled at her. "You're just imaging things," she whispered. "You're trying to get out of it because you're a stick in the mud. Now, go have fun!"

"Promise?" Alessa demanded undeterred.

"Yes, I promise," Lou swore with an indulging shake of her head and smile.

Alessa tried to tell herself she was being dramatic as she turned with a tight-lip smile to Jacob. He held his arm out to her, and she slowly slipped her hand onto it. She was silent as they departed the main hall and walked back through the large, sunken lobby. Her eyes drifted over the many booths people were once again standing around discussing the various projects.

"It was very kind of you to pay such a large amount. The money will hopefully go to one of these good causes," she mused.

"I didn't pay anything." They were outside, once again heading down the red carpet stairs to a line of black limos parked along the curb.

He stopped at one of them and opened the back door. 

"What did you say?"

"I paid for nothing."

"I don't understand, how could you not-"

"It wasn't my money, Ms. Allen. It was his." 

And then Alessa saw the hand reaching out from the dark of the car through the open door, waiting for her to accept.



Trivial Pursuits Ch. 11



Dear Readers,

Thank you for all your feedback! I have appreciated hearing from you. This chapters a doozie, so grab your beverage of choice, sit back and enjoy!

Big thanks to AlreadyTaken.

Titania

******* 

CHAPTER ELEVEN





Trivial Pursuits Ch. 11



"Alessa, listen. Denny's a good guy. He's one of the most professional, trustworthy, honest lawyers at the firm. I don't think he would do anything horrible to you. He's clearly interested in you. Just go with it and enjoy your evening. A suite, did you say?"

"Yeah, the presidential suite."

"Oh my god, Alessa, you are so lucky. Enjoy it! Now that I know you're safe, I'm not texting you anymore tonight, but I want all the details tomorrow, deal? Have fun, and if he tries to kiss you, let him!" and with laughter echoing through the line, Alessa ended the call, looking at it accusingly before dropping it down on the bed. 

She picked up the t-shirt and read it. It was a Stanford rowing shirt with an emblem in the middle. It was well worn and soft from age. She lifted it to her nose and could smell faint whispers of his scent. She pulled it over her head, leaving on her lacy bra and satiny underwear. The shirt was rather large for her, but it was certainly a great deal more comfortable than the dress had been. The gray sweatpants were far too big as well, but the drawstring allowed her to cinch them tightly enough around her waist to keep them up.

When she emerged from the bedroom, Denny was in the kitchen making coffee. "Sorry, they only provide Peet's here," Denny explained.

"Oh, that's okay," she answered, not realizing her own predilection for one brand over the other. For a moment, there was nothing to say, so Alessa made her way out onto the large balcony. The night was getting cooler as it edged toward the late hours, and in only a t-shirt, she felt the chill immediately. But it was helpful to watch the mist roll in and swallow the lights of the surrounding city. Soothing somehow in its mesmerizing encroachment.

"Here," Denny said from behind her.

She turned around to see he had a cup of steaming coffee in each hand and one of the plush throws from inside draped over his arm. "Would you like to stay out here?" he asked as she slid the blanket free and wrapped it around her shoulders.

"Maybe for a little while," she answered and took the coffee he offered. "It's kind of nice," she murmured lifting the steaming mug to her face and inhaling the robust aroma.

As they sat in the comfortable deck furniture, she noticed he had removed his bowtie and unbuttoned the collar of his starch-white shirt. He was relaxed despite the formal wear he still wore. And aggravatingly sexy, she realized.

"Thank you, for the clothes I mean."

"I hated to see you change out of that dress, but I'm sure it wasn't as comfortable as it was beautiful."

Alessa smiled into her cup, unable to ignore the pleasure of his praise or the accuracy of his words.

"Where did you find it?"

"Some shop Lou took me to last weekend. My sister came along and we made a day of it."

"Cadence, right?"

She smiled. "Yeah, that's right." They sipped their coffees in the dark, watching the magic of the city's lights mellowed by the pervasive fog.

Eventually, despite the comfortable silence that existed, she braved a question. "Okay, Denny, you have me here. Dinner is finished. I'm in comfortable clothes and have enough coffee to keep me awake for the next seventy-two hours. What did you want to discuss? What...questions do you have?" She assumed it had something serious to do with them and their relationship, or lack thereof. Her stomach was rolling in uncomfortable anticipation, her mind already scrambling to come up with a plan to fence him off.

Denny had waited for nearly two weeks for this moment, when he officially made his exact intentions known to her. His plan was a bold and complicated gambit, but he knew it would be worth it. He knew she was worth it.

"Alessa, I'm sure it won't come as a surprise to you when I tell you I am interested in you. I'm attracted to you. I like you. And I want to be with you," he began honestly. "Will you give me a chance?" He knew what her answer would be, but also knew this was how he had to begin despite her inevitable refusal.

"Be with me?" she was able to ask despite the immediate increase in her heart rate. "What does that even look like?" If she was going to refuse, she needed to know what she was arguing against. "Do you mean casually date? Be girlfriend-boyfriend? A committed, monogamous relationship? Be only sleeping partners? What?"

"C: a committed relationship."

She gave a tight-lipped frown. Objection one. "I don't date. You know that. Why would you ask? You spent seventy-five thousand dollars for a twelve-hour date when it only takes me less than a minute to reject you? I'm sorry to point out the obvious, but you clearly wasted your money," she declared, making his attempt appear more ridiculous to bolster up her reasonable denial. Denny noted she was predictably not even looking at him.

"I know you don't date. But I'm still trying to figure out why. Because when we talked the other night, you stated you had thought there was nothing to sex, that it was all some falsehood built up to lead people on. But you know better than that now, don't you?" he asked with a drop in his voice, challenging her to deny his claim.

"Do I?" she asked, turning to him. It was a mistake, she realized, as she felt her body respond to the sensual and daring look in his eyes. She looked away again, afraid of showing her vulnerability.

"Yes. You do." But even not looking in his eyes, she still reacted to his voice.

There was silence as Alessa struggled with the truth and hope and past. 

"Fine. You kissed me. I enjoyed it. But that doesn't mean I am able to get into a relationship with you right now." Objection two. "After all, things are finally starting to go so well at work, I'm working so much, as are you, that I don't have time for dating."

Denny answered calmly, as though her protest was needless. "Our schedules are so similar that we should be able to spend enough of our free time to make it work. After all, since we're cognizant of the obstacle lack of time will be, we can knowingly work around it."

Objection three. "It isn't good policy to date coworkers."

"Maybe not encouraged, but with full disclosure at HR, there isn't any rule against it."

Objection four. "You're my supervisor. How am I supposed to advance when I report to you? It will look like bias. And how do I know that any promotion I get is based on my merit and not because you feel obligated or like you have to bribe me with it?"

"Your work, as you have stated numerous times before, is good enough to stand on its own. And the decision for your advancement isn't mine alone. The senior partners are the ones that ultimately decide how high you go. I merely report the good work you already do."

She bluffed the last objection she could scrounge up. "And if I merely don't want to date you?" she boldly asked, her voice tinged with the slightest amount of anger.

Denny was silent until she turned his way. Catching her eyes, he leaned forward and murmured, "Like I said, we both know that isn't true. I know for certain you are very," and his eyes dropped to her parting mouth, "very interested in me. So it makes me wonder why you keep shutting me out. Why can't you move past what happened to you when you were just a kid now that you know how good it could be with me?"

"I've moved past it," she argued with a frown. "I never think about that stuff. Not until you remind me," she accused.

"Sweetheart, ignoring it isn't the same as healing from it," he stated gently. 

"But I've already tried," she informed him tersely looking away again and scowling. "And it didn't work. That's why I ignore it."

Denny frowned. "What do you mean?"

Her lips were pursed angrily together. At length, she huffed, rolling her eyes up to watch the low-flying clouds illuminated by the lights of the city drift by. She knew if she was going to convince him to leave her alone, she was going to have to give him the whole truth.

"In college. This guy, he kept asking me out. But I knew where it would end, knew it wouldn't be worth the effort. But, I don't know, I was attracted to him, I guess. He was smart and funny and so damn persistent. So I went on a few dates with him. To the movies. And bowling. And then somehow we ended up back at his place, crappy little dingy apartment. And we were on his couch, making out. And it was getting exciting, and I thought this was it. This was going to be different. That I'd finally get what I wanted. And then..." but she couldn't continue, a knot of acid twisting her stomach tight as the same panic from all those years ago threatened to come back up her throat.

Denny waited until it was clear she needed prodding. "Yes?" he said softly. "What happened?"

"His hands went down my pants, and suddenly I was fifteen again, and all I could feel was the sickening pain and disappointment. And it made me feel so detached from him. Like my boyfriend in high school," she stated angrily, the strain of holding back tears in her voice. "I'd let him put his dick in my body and not a week later he was saying the most horrible things about me. I let a stranger have sex with me. And I was about to let it happen again, so I panicked. I thought I was going to be sick and so I started shoving him off me, freaking out like a nut case. I ran out of his apartment so fast." She sounded forlorn and dejected. Defeated. "He tried to talk to me a few days later, but I just said I wasn't interested. He tried a few times after that, but I kept blowing him off until he finally got the picture and left me alone."

Denny ached to hold her, but was wise enough to realize at the moment she needed space. Especially given her history of panicking. "So you see, useless. Don't waste your time on me." She turned to look him square in the eye, her expression solemn and unwavering. But also tragic and lost. And he wanted nothing more than to be her hero in that moment. 

They were quiet a moment as he studied her stoic profile. As it was the earliest hour of the morning, she was becoming too cold to stay there comfortably any longer, and with the anxiety and stress of their discussion, Alessa was visibly shivering. 

Denny stood and reached out his hand. "Let's go in," he suggested gently. She rose, but didn't take his proffered hand and instead walked stiffly inside, carrying the tension from the balcony with her like a fallen hero's cloak. Silently, he followed her in and sat opposite her on the couch. She had curled herself into a large, over-stuffed, leather arm chair, the thick throw still wrapped protectively around her, her knees tucked up to her chest. She didn't seem to acknowledge his presence as she sat mutely, vibrating from the increasing pressure of feeling caged.

"Alessa, talk to me, Sweetheart."

"What do you want me to say, Denny!" she exploded, though it shouldn't have been surprising. "What do you want from me? I told you, this is pointless. This is a waste of your time."

"I just want to help," he stated softly, defending his push into her discomfort.

"You think you can fix me? You think I'm broken? You think because I can't let a man touch me that there is something wrong with me? I'm not broken. I'm strong enough to get back up when I get knocked down. But I'm also smart enough to not get knocked down a second time. Smart enough to not let a guy sweep me off my feet with a little romanticism. Or to think attraction equals love. I'm not going to become dependent on someone only to be abandoned years late after sacrificing my career and my heart." She ranted, now unable to stop. "I refuse to allow myself to become so damaged and heartbroken that I'll be prey for any loser that comes by, because I'll just be so damn thankful for the slightest bit of attention. I'm not broken. I'm smart." Tears had begun to fill her eyes and her chest was heaving in her rage.

Denny realized Alessa was speaking from experience. But he knew it wasn't just her own experience, so it must have been...

"You're talking about your mom, aren't you?" he prodded gently.

Hot tears were falling down her disgruntled face. She swiped them away angrily. She wanted to deny it, but her mother was living proof that falling in love was a bad idea, and her own limited experience seemed to confirm it.

The final objection. "Fine. Yes. My mother was completely broken when my father left us. My poor, stupid mother was so devastated, now raising me by herself she was thankful when my creep of a stepfather came along and showed her the slightest bit of interest." Her anger was growing.

Denny pressed, like a hound on the scent of its prey. "Why a creep?"

But she only continued to wipe away her tears, wiping her leaking nose over the back of her arm. "I don't want to talk about this anymore," she growled stubbornly.

"That seems to be your choice phrase about any topic that is personal," Denny observed. 

"And that's my right. I don't want to tell you every sad, little detail of my life. You have no right to make me feel so miserable and pathetic, so I'm not going to tell you."

Denny's brow creased, not understanding. "I don't want to make you feel pathetic."

"Well, how do you expect me to feel when I tell you I'm lame because I haven't had sex since high school because the very thought of it sends me into a panic attack?"

Denny opened his mouth to say something but she cut him off, tears streaming angrily now.

"How do you expect me to feel when I admit my father left me, and the only way I could win time with him was if I won my races? How do you think I feel when I tell you that after I found my perverted stepfather had hidden an old cell phone in the bathroom with the video recording that I had to start showering and changing in the dark, scouring every possible hiding place for a hidden camera? How the fuck do you expect me to feel, Denny, when you make me tell you every little horrible thing about myself?"

She sobbed into her arms hugging her bent-up knees. Her shoulders were shaking, and her cries were destroying his heart. 

"Alessa," he groaned, and then crossed the space to sit on the very edge of her chair. He wrapped her in his arms, and for a second his body absorbed her misery, but then she wrenched herself from him and hopped over the armrest and out of the chair, the throw falling to the floor.

"Don't touch me!" she hissed, still bating furiously at the fallen tears. "Leave me alone!" she commanded again when he stood.

"Alessa," he said gently, hoping he could calm her down. "I'm sorry this is painful. It's not my intent to hurt you. But this is good. We need to discuss this," he insisted, still in his soft manner.

"What do you care?" she sobbed, still unable to curtail her tears.

"I care," he asserted solemnly. "And this is exactly why we are here, because this," he said with a gesture of his hand to her, "is robbing you of a life you deserve."

"Who are you to decide what my life should be like?"

He sighed before replying. "You're right, I can't tell you how to live your life, but as someone who cares about you, I'd hope you could trust me to help you where I can." 

"You don't care about me. You just want to fuck me," she accused coldly through her tears.

His stomach tensed at the accusation. He looked her squarely in the eyes. "I may want to do every last dirty thing in the book to you, but that doesn't mean that I don't care for you. Deeply."

Despite her crying state, his answer caused her insides to liquefy and her breathing to stall. But she recovered in the next moment and turned her face away, wrapping her arms about her protectively as her jaw clenched in irritation. They stood that way for some minutes while she calmed down and stemmed the last of her tears. She was still breathing heavily, a hiccup every once in a while. 

At length, Denny tried once more to approach her. She tensed up, but didn't move away when he slipped an arm behind her. "Come on, Sweetheart, let's sit on the couch." He guided her back to where he had been sitting earlier, picking up the throw on the way. He sat down and pulled her with him and then wrapped her up in the blanket. Alessa was tired, her rant and the late hour leaving her drained despite the coffee, and surely that was why she allowed him to pull her into him, his arm wrapping around her as she laid her head against his chest.

For nearly a quarter of an hour, Denny simply held her, his hand soothingly running up and down her back. Alessa had closed her eyes and was nearly asleep when a low rumble came from his chest as he started speaking. 

"Alessa, Sweetheart, I want you to listen to me and just think about what I'm saying. Don't speak, just listen. Okay?" There was a pause and then she nodded her head against his chest.

"What I'm asking of you, what I want," he was silent as he tried to fully empathize with how she must have felt, "I understand it can be scary, to completely challenge your beliefs, to become more intimate with someone than you have ever been. I understand that, and I don't want you to think I don't care or can't respect that.

"And you were right, I do want you. I want to screw you until we can't walk straight. But sex isn't all I want from you. It isn't everything. But that's exactly what is holding you back, this fear of intimacy. Don't you see that? It keeps you from any type of relationship, not just a sexual one. And that's not healthy." He felt her stiffen as if she were about to argue.

"You can't go through your whole life avoiding relationships. You can't live on work alone. It isn't healthy. Don't you see that? I mean, think about how you treat your body. With a balanced diet. Not just vegetables, not just meat, not just carbs or fat. But all of it, in a healthy balance. Your body needs it all, just like your spirit needs it all. You need work, yes, but you also need friends and hobbies. And you need love. Otherwise, you'll starve."

Fear was seizing her insides, and she felt that old, trapped sensation creep back into her. "Denny, I don't think I can do that," she whispered.

"I know," he responded with a sadness in his voice, his lips dropping down to the top of her head. "Alessa, I..." he took a deep breath, "I care about you, and because I care about you, I want to help you. I want to teach you how to be in a relationship, how to care for someone, to be cared for by someone."

"But how? I've already tried. I've already told you how I panicked. I don't even know that I want you to do anything," she confessed miserably.

"You don't want to be afraid anymore, do you? Now that you know what it could be like?" he questioned, testing her for courage.

He felt her tighten up against him, burying herself a little more into his side. "I honestly don't know," she answered softly. "I thought I was fine. I was satisfied with my life. Until you."

He chuckled at the morose tone of her voice. "Sorry to rock your boat." And then he kissed her on top of the head. "Actually, I take that back. I'm not sorry. If you give me this chance, I'll be forever grateful."

"How?" she asked again

It took Denny several moments before he answered her. "You lie, do you know that?," he asked casually as if he had not just insulted her.

"What?" she asked tersely, sitting up away from him so she could frown. "I most certainly do not."

He chuckled and reached out a hand to cup her disgruntled face. "You most certainly do. You, Sweetheart, are a walking contradiction. Don't you know that? You are beautiful, dress well, take care of your body. Why? To be attractive. But what happens when you actually attract attention? You hide behind an ice wall of unavailability.

"Take tonight, for instance. You put on a convincing front; you were poised and clever and oh so alluring, but you didn't feel it, did you? You smiled standing in front of that crowd, but inside, you wanted to be a million miles from that room. You fake confidence like a hooker fakes an orgasm. It's a pretty, decorative balloon, filled with emptiness. 




Trivial Pursuits Ch. 11



"So you see, it's a lie," he said with a great, concluding sigh. She looked away, bristled but reflecting. "So no more," he stated, drawing her attention back to him. "You are not allowed to lie to me, understand? For one, I don't believe it, so it's a waste of time, but secondly, and more importantly, you do believe the lies you tell yourself, and that has to stop."

Too quickly for her liking, her reason agreed with him. She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Fine. No lying, though I think you exaggerate," she muttered under her breath.

Denny smiled ruthlessly at her. "Good," he said with an evil gleam in his eyes. "So, let's get to it, shall we?"

She looked at him warily. "Get to what?"

"You need to practice honesty. And do remember, this is part of the contract, undertaking to answer honestly to the best of you knowledge."

Her distrustful expression grew, but she nodded cautiously anyway.

He gave a half smile. "I've nearly made a fool out of myself letting you know how much I'm interested in you. How about you? Do you want me? I mean, are you attracted to me?"

Alessa couldn't look at him, but with pursed lips, she slowly nodded.

"Look at me and tell me," he commanded softly.

She couldn't stop the shiver of nerves in her stomach before she slowly slid her gaze to his. "Yes, I am attracted to you."

"And when I kiss you, you feel it, your body responds?"

She cringed a little, but nodded and answered. "Yes," she breathed.

"And if you weren't afraid of this, you would let me do more than kiss you, right? If we were alone and I kissed you, would you let me touch you?"

She nodded, her anxious quiver growing.

"Would you let me take off your clothes?"

"You can't seriously be asking me these questions," she said incredulously, looking away.

"You agreed to answer any questions. Honestly. Completely."

"I didn't! You switched the contracts!"

"You still signed it," he countered. "At this point, you don't really have the option. Unless you can cough up seventy-five thousand and face the inevitable crash of your career because you bumbled a straightforward contract," he threatened solemnly, watching her struggle to submit to the terms she was now bound by. He knew he was pushing her hard, digging deep and extracting her most private feelings, but he also knew she needed that nudge to take her over the edge and into his arms.

"Now, tell me, would you let me undress you?" his voice was smooth and rich and filling her veins.

Her breathing had increased, but she nodded.

"Would you let me kiss you here?" he murmured, lifting his hand to trail a finger down the middle of her chest, sliding between her breasts. He could feel her fine tremble. Again she nodded, her eyes closing to separate herself from reality.

"What about here?" he questioned, his finger sliding all the way down her torso until it paused right above her mound.

Alessa snapped her legs together, her eyes opening once more. "Denny, I don't-"

But he wouldn't allow her to deny him. "Answer the question, Alessa. Would you let me lick and kiss and tongue your sweet, little pussy?" he questioned vulgarly.

She moaned, her face scrunched in unbearable discomfort. "Denny," she tried to avoid again, but his eyebrow arched in warning.

"Answer." But when she could only barely nod, he commanded, "Say it. Tell me exactly what you would want me to do."

A gust of breath rushed out from her as she felt deflated and melting all at once. "Yes, Denny, I would want you to-" but she had never said those words, despite all the many stories she had written, she had never actually spoken them out loud, and didn't think she could start in his presence. "I want you to kiss me there."

"Where?" he prodded.

She glowered at him, her internal state hardening from the new and inescapable desire blooming. "I don't want to say it," she ground out.

"Say it. Or I'll consider it you reneging on your contract. Answer me honestly? Do you want me to eat you out?"

She couldn't seem to stop shaking. "Yes, okay? I want you to put your mouth on my pussy." Her face was an instant flame and she felt nauseous. She turned her body from him, effectively moving away from his reach and was able to look elsewhere.

Denny leaned in, his arm now resting behind her and his mouth positioned next to her ear. "And after I made you come in my mouth, would you let me put my cock inside of you? Would you want me to stretch you out as far as you could go and move in and out until you came around me, milking me until I came deep inside of you?" 

Alessa jumped up from the couch and propelled away from him as though she had been scorched. "Denny, I don't want-"

"To talk about this, I know," he mocked. "But that's too bad for you, because this is what I am talking about, and unless you want to default on the contract, we are going to continue this conversation until...I'm satisfied," he declared, smiling villainously. 

Alessa was on the other side of a chair, using it to shield her virtue from him. 

"Tell me, if I put my hands down your panties right now, would I find them soaked?"

Her stomach swirled and she glowered at the increasing crudeness of his discussion. "I don't know," she bit out.

Denny frowned thoughtfully. "Really? Should I check, then?"

"No!" she nearly shouted.

He only chuckled. "Then how about telling me the truth. Did I make you wet? Did you get turned on just by listening to me describe what you would let me do to you?"

She swallowed, and begrudgingly admitted, "Yes, it turned me on."

"It made you wet?" he prompted.

"Yes," she answered honestly through clenched teeth.

Denny narrowed his eyes at her, new thoughts, dangerously sinful thoughts suddenly occurring to him. "Tell me, do you masturbate?"

"Do you?" she returned in a huff, not really wanting to know the answer, but tired of being stripped bare.

He laughed and said, "Of course. Especially lately." She frowned in confusion. "You see, the woman I'm interested in hasn't let me fuck her delirious yet, so I haven't had sex in months, leaving me to...care for myself," he finished with a smile.

Of course he had been talking about her, and she now felt silly for not catching on sooner. She lowered her eyes, her cheeks lighting up. "Alessa, come sit back down. Sweetheart, I'm not going to attack you," he suggested lightly, a playful smile on his lips.

She was still weary of him, and of herself, not liking the intimacy of the conversation or his proximity, but she knew she couldn't stand there all night and so slowly made her way back, choosing at the last minute to sit back in the large chair opposite him. She felt vulnerable, and so grabbed one of the large pillows and squeezed it to her chest.

"Comfy? Now, tell me, do you masturbate?"

She swallowed and reluctantly nodded.

"How frequently?"

"Once, maybe twice a week. Maybe more," she answered, not really knowing herself.

Denny nodded, accepting her answer. "And do you orgasm every time?"

"Yes."

"And how do you do it?" She looked up at him and quirked her head. "Do you use any toys or just your hands? Do you do it in any sort of position? What do you think about?" Denny was enjoying the conversation, but wished she was sitting on his lap kissing him as he performed the interrogation.

Alessa tried to make her answers as clinical as possible, hoping it somehow separated her emotionally from what she was disclosing. "I have a vibrator, like a back massager. It has a heating option. Usually I lay on my stomach with a pillow under me with it pressed against me, but sometimes I lay on my back." She stopped her answering.

"So only clitoral stimulation?" She nodded. "So no penetration?" 

"No," she said softly.

"And what do you think about?" he prodded.

"Denny, I really don't want to talk about this." Her face was very red, and her eyes were cast down. He thought he saw them water.

"You can do it, tell me," he pressed, not quite certain why he was making her share when it was clearly so stressful to her.

It was a few moments before she was able to speak, and when she did, her voice was low and soft and full of shame. "Someone usually rescues me from someone attacking me. And I'm so scared and so grateful, that I confess how I feel about him, that I've always loved him and wanted him."

Denny furrowed his brow. Her confession didn't seem so bad. He wondered why she should be embarrassed about her vanilla answer. And then a thought occurred to him.

"And who is the guy who saves you? And who does he save you from?"

She was trembling again, the tears were definitely back as she looked up at him pleading silently to not answer.

"Alessa, come here. Sweetheart, come here," he coaxed gently. "It's okay, I'm not going to attack you." Reluctantly, she stood and sat next to him on the couch, her back stiff and her hands fists in her lap. But he didn't allow her to stay so distant, and in a bold move he reached for her and lifted her up, placing her so she straddled his lap. Her hands were instantly on his shoulder, pushing against him to dislodge herself from his grasp.

"Relax," he commanded softly. 

"This is only supposed to be about conversation," she argued as she struggled against him.

"Shh, you're fine, I'm not going to do anything you don't want." One hand stayed on her hip while the other drifted under her shirt and up the skin of her back. Her lips were pursed angrily, but she couldn't control the shudder his caresses elicited. And so she stilled, for a moment feeling no immediate danger, but keeping a wary eye on him.

"It's hard to say, huh?" he murmured thoughtfully when he felt the change in her, trying to think of a way to put her more at ease to tell him. "Whisper it in my ear, if you want," he suggested, figuring if she wasn't being looked at she would feel more in control. He could feel her fingers flex into his shoulders before she swallowed and leaned forward, her torso coming into full contact with his.

Her lips brushed the shell of his ear, and then her warm breath on his skin as she spoke. "The man attacking me is...my father. Not my father, but my father in the fantasy. And the man who rescues me is..." her fingers were nearly painful in his shoulders, "my brother," she admitted, her voice quivering with her shameful admission.

Denny recalled one of her stories that had been about a brother. And while he knew the relationship was not a viable one, he understood the need behind it. An unconditional lover, someone whose love for her surpassed the parameters of any common romantic relationship. Something that existed at birth and lasted until death.

And suddenly, despite the arousal their conversation had stirred and the pleasure of her body against him, Denny just wanted to hold her. His arms wound tightly around her, pressing her into him. Again, he just held her in silence, feeling his body absorb the tremors of hers. One hand slid up her back to thread into her hair, but its progress was impeded by the up do she still wore. 

"Sweetheart," he coaxed gently, drawing her attention to lift her head, "sit up for me." Her eyes were tinged with redness, uncertainty creased her brow. She needed that acceptance now, he could knew, needed that unconditional support, despite her less than normal proclivities. His eyes were loving as they caressed her, his hands familiar and confident as one stroked up her arm to cup her cheek and then slide round back to begin pulling at the many pins holding her brunette locks into place. The large knotted mass sagged, and then with one last stopping pin removed, gave way and cascaded around her shoulders, curtaining them in as she was looking down on him. The large braid still remained, and with ever-tender fingers, he slowly unwound it until he could stoke his fingers through her mane unfettered and unhindered.

"You have gorgeous hair," he murmured. Eventually his fingers moved on from her hair to trace the lines of her face. "And gorgeous eyebrows, and gorgeous eyes. And a perfect nose," he commented as his finger stroked down it to run over her lips, "and the prettiest, sexiest mouth I've ever wanted to kiss." 

But then that mouth tightened. Denny looked up into her eyes questioningly.

"I know I'm gorgeous," she stated unamused. "That's why everyone likes me."

"You don't seem happy about that fact."

"Why would I be happy about being liked for something that's not going to last? I'd much rather be liked for the things I have accomplished."

Denny's eyes widened in understanding before he gave a knowing nod. "Of course. You think if people like you for the things you can control, then you can control if people like you. You can keep them from not liking you, from leaving you," he pieced together.

Alessa's brow furrowed, her mouth set in an unhappy line. "As riveting as your questions are, I'm getting rather tired of them." She made to move off his lap, but his fingers tightened around her.

"Well, if you don't want to talk, I'm okay with that. I'm sure I could find a much more...pleasurable use for your mouth," he confessed huskily, reaching up to run his thumb over her lips. 

But her hands were against his chest, her back arching her away. "Denny," she attempted to say in warning, but it came out with a needier uncertainty that wasn't convincing.

"What if I said I liked you for more than your pretty face and figure?"

"I would say, eventually you would like those same qualities in someone else who happened to be younger and prettier," she predicted.

For a minute, they only stared, both realizing they were at the proverbial stale mate. Alessa sighed, and was relieved when he allowed her to slide of his lap at last.

"Denny, this isn't getting us anywhere," she groused.

And he knew she was right. Alessa was tired and irritable, and he had pushed her beyond her comfort level several times. He chuckled dismally. 

"I know I gave us more time for this date in hopes that we could finally settle it, but perhaps it was wishful to think we could work through the night and be at our best. After all, the Great Wall wasn't built in a day. Well, at least we'll have a few hours in the morning," he sighed getting up to stand before her. He took her hands, "Sleep with me," he requested softly.

Alessa jerked her hands away and scowled at him. "I'm not sleeping with you."

He smiled mirthlessly and reached up to cup her cheek. "I'm not asking you to have sex with me, just to lay down with me. I know it's a lot to ask, but I'd like to wake up with you in my arms. At least just once."

He seemed so forlorn, and so sincere in his intentions, that it was a struggle for her to not immediately grant him his wish. Her lips still pursed together, her mind batting away the rolling pleasure of his tender hand on her face, the needful look in his eyes, she begrudgingly decided it would be equally nice for her to wake up in his arms. Just once.

"Fine," she mumbled.

He clucked his tongue at her three times as if she were a naughty school girl, and stepped to her, filling the last of the space between them. "Don't be petulant." His leaned in as if for a kiss, but her hands came up to his chest.

"Denny, I haven't given you permission," she reminded him.

His eyes, smiling, lifted to hers. "Yet. Tell me, can you define a kiss?" he asked.

"Hmm?" she hummed confused as his head continued dipping to hers, but his mouth falling to the side to glide against her cheek, down along her jaw, to rub against the sensitive skin under her ear. The scrape of his stubble was a thousand erotic sensations skittering up her scalp and down her spine.

"A kiss. Its definition. If you want to control the parameters of a kiss, you have to be able to define it," he instructed, reminding her of basic legal principles.

"Mmm," she began, trying to think in face of the murmuring warmth in her body Denny's mouth produced. "Lips. Pressing lips against another surface, most commonly another person's mouth, but not limited to. Common surfaces also include another person's skin such as the cheek, forehead, or, oh," she gasp as she felt his tongue stroke that very sensitive surface on the side of her neck. "The neck," she breathed at last. "Tongues may also be present," she added in hind thought, "though tongue alone is not a kiss nor is its present required to be considered a kiss."

"Very good," he purred against her. "Anything else you would like to add?" he asked as he took her ear lobe into his mouth and suckled just enough to make her gasp and bend herself into him, giving him even greater access.

"Why do you do these things to me? Why do you make me feel this way when I don't want to?"

"Oh, Sweetheart, because you do want it. You're just afraid. I just have to win your trust that I'm not like anything you've ever known." And then he was kissing her neck again before he pulled back to look into her eyes. "And because there's nothing I want more." He kissed the tip of her nose lightly and then pulled her into the bedroom. Wordlessly, he guided her to get ready, showing her the supply of guest toothbrushes and face washes while he changed. When they were at last scrubbed and ready for bed, he pulled back the sheets for her.

Alessa got in cautiously, watching him walk around to the other side and slide in comfortably. She lay on her back, her eyes cast to the side watching him as he rolled to face her, his head resting on his propped hand. He was grinning at her like a rascal.

"What?"

"You really never have slept with anyone have you?"

She moved her torso away from him and turned to look at him squarely. "Why do you ask that?"

Denny laughed, finding humor that in their massive king-size bed Alessa lay on the very edge, looking like a princess sleeping under a spell with hands clasped protectively over her chest. Without warning, Denny reached across the space to pull her toward him and firmly position her spooned against his body.

"Denny! What are you-"

"Shh," he soothed, settling down against her. "When you sleep with someone, this is how you do it," he murmured into her ear. Denny felt Alessa's deep breath and slow sigh.

"Now," he teased lightly, "if you are overcome in the middle of the night with the need to ravish me..." he could feel her tense up, "wake me up first because I don't want to miss hearing you give me permission for that kiss."

"Why, you-" but again she was cut off as he dropped a kiss behind her ear and nuzzled into her, deeply inhaling the fresh and sweet fragrance of her.



Trivial Pursuits Ch. 12



Dear Readers,

Sorry for the small delay for this posting. I have been extremely busy with work, as well so absorbed in writing chapter fourteen that I completely forgot to submit the next chapter.

If you are interested, I've addressed several comments at the end of this chapter, if you care to read. And as always, thanks AlreadyTaken for her work and wonderful support.

Titania

*******

CHAPTER TWELVE





Trivial Pursuits Ch. 12



They were still ambling slowly down the path, making their way back to the gate in the wall at the perimeter of the property. They stood covered by the speckled shadows of the leaves overhead when he stopped and turned to her. 

"And that's why I'd fight for them, a hundred miles more than any of my clients. So you see, it may be a little unethical, at the very least a little unorthodox, for me to ask you to consider dating my son, but I can't help it. It's who I am.

"But, rest assured, you have nothing to fear from me. No reprisal should you choose to decline. It was merely a happy thought I had. My son David hasn't dated anyone since his divorce almost five years ago. I love my son, Ms. Allen. I want him to be happy. And it would warm my old days to see my son find something wonderful like I have found. Someone to make him whole. Someone special like you." He was smiling gently at her, no questionable intent in his shining brown eyes, only sweet sincerity and unabashed optimism.

Alessa felt her face warm and her heart beat in the ardor of his hope. The acid wash was back, coating her stomach in discomfort. She faked a gracious smile, hiding all that was crumbling inside. "Thank you, Mr. Schecter, for your interest. I am very honored, very flattered. I'm certain your son is a wonderful man, if he's anything like you. However, I'm not available to date your son."

He gave a chuckling half-smile. "Not available or not interested?"

She took a deep breath. "I honestly couldn't say interested or not as I haven't met him, but as it is, I'm not available. But thank you for considering me worthy enough for him."

He smiled and gave a shrug. "One can always shoot for the stars. Well, Ms. Allen, if you ever become available, let me know and I'd be more than happy to introduce the two of you. Until then, that man of yours is a very lucky chap." He opened the gate to let her out. They said their goodbyes until at last she walked away, buzzing.

She sat in her car for untold minutes, her eyes staring ahead, unseeing. And then she turned a guarded gaze to her phone. Her mind was too preoccupied to notice the thumbnail she slid between her teeth to chew it as she searched her contacts list. And then she punched his name.

It rang twice before he answered.

"Denny? I think we should talk."

******

A/N: Yeah, I know, I left you with yet another cliff-hanger and with still no nookie in sight. But I'd say, get used to it. It's just how I write, how my brain organizes the story, so it's happened before and it'll happen again. But, because I am an empathetic writer, I am also gracing you with another chapter at the same time :) I will also give you a heads up that the following chapter will be the LAST chapter before he finally gets her bra off ;)

Responses to various feedback:

Pace: Hmm, I don't often like to justify my work, feeling rather that I'd like for my writing to be self-explanatory, however I have received several comments about the slow pace of this story. While I like a quickie sex scene as well as the next, but that isn't REAL for these characters. This damaged girl isn't about to jump in the sack just because he's our main character, and there was a real need to detail his journey in understanding her and then slowly drawing her out. As a result, yeah, it's taken us quite some time to get here, but I think, I hope it will be worth it. After all, this isn't a short story, it's a long novel and the majority of it will be their relationship, lots of sex included.

Noncon vs Romance: Hm, this is certainly an interesting discussion that I hadn't considered in creating this story. I viewed Denny's pursuit of Alessa more in comparison to an intervention for someone with an unhealthy addiction; for Alessa it is her denial that her attitude towards sex and relationship is unhealthy. Sometimes, it takes someone from the outside to see things more clearly than we can, someone who can call us on the bullshit we tell ourselves. And that's Denny's role in this story. True, he isn't a flawless knight with no marks on his armor, but he truly does care for her and is forcing her to face her injuries so that she can begin to heal. Yes, from her perspective in these past few chapters, she has been RELUCTANT to participate, but that doesn't mean she will stay that way, nor does it mean that if she had ultimately refused him (because, after all, she does want him Denny knows) he would have left her alone. Any way, that's my perspective on the struggle these two have had in forcing the topic.

San Francisco: No, not actually in the city I love, but vacation there whenever possible. I do miss it and hope to go soon :)

And lastly, and this is just a little heads up, I'm almost finished with Ch 14...so that means y'all have officially caught up with me, and I am very sorry to say (for you, at least) the chapters won't be posted as quickly. Given my past record on other stories, I usually can get them out every other week if the characters are speaking in my head...which isn't always the case. I can keep you posted, so you're not left wondering.

That's all for now...comment and vote if you want! :)






Trivial Pursuits Ch. 13



CHAPTER THIRTEEN





Trivial Pursuits Ch. 13



"Clinic?" He hummed affirmatively against her skin, eliciting a shiver down her spine in response. "What clinic? What for?"

"For us. To get tested."

Alessa slowly froze against him. Denny reluctantly lifted his face from her neck. His fingers were sweeping a few stray strands of her hair from her temple before he placed a pacifying kiss there. 

"What's the matter?" he asked softly, though he knew the answer.

"Tested? As in a blood test? For...STDs?"

He nodded gently. "It's important to not have any unresolved barriers between us. That reminds me, you should probably set up an appointment with you doctor," he suggested, again in a casual and unaffected manner.

Alessa was still reeling from the reality that sexual intercourse was imminent, that she would soon be sharing body fluids with another human, and so was slow to understand his meaning. "My doctor?" Denny was fascinated by her disoriented response to the conversation. "What for?"

He smiled wickedly as he leaned in to growl in her ear, "Because when I fuck you, I want to come inside you. Without a condom."

Alessa's cheeks instantly pinkened and her breath caught. He started placing warm kisses below her ear and along her jaw line and neck as he continued arousing her with his words. "Can't you imagine what it will feel like from the inside? To feel every inch of me so deep inside you that you don't know where you end and I begin? Don't you want me to fill you up when I come?" 

His lips were grazing her ear, his hot breath causing her to shiver. "No condoms, Sweetheart." And then he was stealing her breath once more, pulling the life right out of her. When he eventually broke away, they were both breathing harshly, his forehead resting against hers. "I don't know how much longer I can wait," he confessed, his voice raw as he stroked her hair back. "Go to the doctor. This week if you can. Okay?"

Though apprehension was thick in her gut, she nodded, no other reply coming to mind. 

Late the following afternoon, Alessa found herself sitting stiffly next to him as he thumbed through a report for one of his cases. She too had brought work to the clinic, but unlike him, she had no capacity to think of anything in the sterile environment. That all their physical intimacy should be founded on clinical procedures made a dispassionate whiteness settle cold and heavy inside, a second-guessing, surreal disconnect. 

The night before she had lain disquietly in bed, tossing and unrestful. It had begun to surface gradually, the vague notion that she was his experiment, merely a woman he wished to sleep with, a challenging psychology project to rehabilitate, much like a traumatized pit bull. She accepted that whatever relationship he planned on building with her, it wasn't quite real, just practice, just a case study. And somehow, that belief provided a layer of protection around her heart, a framework to distance herself just enough. In spite of the unacknowledged sting. She continued to wrestle the confluence of such pulling and uneasy thoughts instead of looking at the files on her lap.

But then his hand, which had been draped around the back of her chair, was running along the her neck, up and down, pacifying her anxiety without the light banter that she would have thought characteristic of him. She looked at him, but his eyes were roving over the pages before him, his hand seemingly acting of its own volition. And for a moment, she felt the sharpness leave her stomach, the cold knot melt as her eyes closed and she focused on the newly appreciated pleasure of another touching her.

And then his name was called by the round woman in dowdy scrubs, and blinking at the disturbance, she watched him pack his things and disappear behind the closing white door, leaving her to uphold the weight of all the things in her head in the cold, white room. Eventually it was her turn, and when all the violating samples had been collected and she was freed to leave, Denny was waiting for her. In silence they drove back to the office, where she said her dinner and a ton of files awaited her. 

Denny left her to get as much of her work done as possible, but when he was headed out at ten and saw her desk lamp on, he walked over, expecting to find her busy with some report. Her fingers were clacking rapidly on the keys, but when he was within eye shot, he saw it wasn't a document she was typing. His surprise was evident in his voice.

"Is that Mario Brothers?"

His abrupt question made her jump, before she slammed the lid of her laptop closed and spun around to face him. "Don't do that!" she admonished breathlessly.

She was clearly surprised, but he was more interested in the fact that his straight-laced, bookish girl played video games. "Open that back up," he instructed, pulling an adjacent chair around to sit next to her.

"Denny, I--"

"Don't argue, Alessa, and just do it." He had briefly wondered when she would simply begin to comply instead of automatically raising an objection to everything.

With an uncomfortable reluctance, she opened her laptop back up and signed back on. Her screen was flashing with a paused game.

"It is Mario brothers," he said with a grin full of wonder. "I wouldn't have thought you would waste your time with this sort of thing."

"I don't consider it wasting my time," she defended. "It's just a break to free my mind a moment."

"So you're not a gamer?" he teased.

Though she rolled her eyes, he saw her smile. "Hardly."

"I think I remember this game. From the first Gameboy, right? I didn't realize you could play it on the computer."

She shrugged. "It's not the greatest quality, but it's kinda fun, you know, reminiscing."

"Okay, Allen, I challenge." When she frowned and made a confused sound he expounded. "Me. You. This game. Top score in five minutes wins." He turned to look at her thoughtfully, a devilish gleam in his eyes. "But what to wager?"

But she balked. "Denny, I really have to get back to work. I was just about to stop any way."

"Nonsense," he countered, not allowing her to miss an opportunity to spend a little fun time with him. "It's past ten, unless you have something due first thing in the a.m., you should stop. And don't argue," he cut her off. "If you won, what would you like?" he offered, luring her in.

She studied him a moment, her features tinged with apprehension. Denny saw an answer flitter across her eyes before she contained her expression and shook her head. "Nothing. Just to be left alone to get my work finished," she answered, turning back to her desk.

"What did I say about lying?" Denny asked lowly as he leaned in, his voice dropping in pitch until it vibrated through the pit of her stomach.

She couldn't look at him immediately, but when she finally gathered her courage, she turned her flushed face to him. "My feet hurt from these heels," she supplied honestly. A small smile curved the corners of his mouth as he tilted his head in question. She breathed deeply before finishing her request. "I want a foot massage," she forced out.

Denny didn't smile, but Alessa could see the pleasure there all the same. "Very well, we wager your foot massage against my neck massage."

"Time?"

"Five minutes per foot, ten minutes total on neck, and we better make that shoulders, too." There was a pause before she gave a single, conceding nod.

"Okay. Best score in five minutes."

"Deal. And since you've been playing, and I don't remember this game very well, I reserve the right to go second."

"Fine," she agreed and turned to restart the level. Over the next five minutes, Denny's attention was split between making mental notes of obstacles and appearances of villains and watching Alessa's expressive face as she concentrated at the keyboard, her eyes glued to the screen, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. He chuckled a few times when she made a mistake, her nose crinkling in disappointment. At the end of her run, he admitted he had quite a challenge ahead of him, and despite the competitive nature that cringed at the prospect of being beaten by a girl, his desire to freely touch any part of her body consoled him greatly. 

In the end, he fell short by several thousand points, and with a great sigh, reclined back in his chair. When he looked over at her, he was surprised by the excitement she barely seemed to contain. She was biting her smiling lips, and her body was nearly humming. And then she cracked the first, gloriously youthful smile he had ever seen. She struggled to hide her glee, but failed, and on impulse, he congratulated her by grasping the back of her neck and leaning forward to kiss her full on the mouth. 

When Denny pulled back, her smile had melted to apprehensive uncertainty, which she attempted to recover from by clearing her throat and looking back at her computer. Though he wasn't quite certain why, there was something decidedly delicious about her startled responses that made him ravenous. 

"I suppose to the winner go the spoils. Massage?" he asked.

She shook her head. "I'm not really in the mood for one right now. Besides, I think a foot massage at the office would fall under one of those behaviors Macrae warned us against."

"Nonsense, you wanted a foot massage because your feet hurt now. And to hell with Macrae. No one else is here."

"I'd rather not," she continued to argue, still not looking at him.

"Too bad, all prizes must be claimed at time of winnings."

"A. that wasn't part of the original deal, and b. if that is the case, then I'd rather just forget about it altogether."

"That's not happening," Denny stated, disallowing her attempt to avoid the mild intimacy. "In fact, I think we should go into my office, shut the door, and you should let me reward you properly."

Her stiffening body language clearly stated that was at the limit of her comfort, and so, before she could deny him outright, he stood and, taking her by the hand, pulled her with him.

"Denny, what are you planning?" she asked nervously.

"Only rewarding you, my little gamer."

"Yes, but how exactly?"

"With my hands."

Alessa took a deep breath as he guided her into his office and closed the door behind them. With a flick of his wrist, the privacy shade rolled down, covering his wall of windows facing the office. For a moment it was dark, and then a light at the opposite side of the couch went on, casting him in gold and shadow. 

"Come," he invited.

She was still uncertain about the entire notion, preferring to not engage in any type of intimate act, let alone in the office when they had been specifically warned against it. But perhaps she could keep him to only a ten minute foot massage and then could make her excuses and leave before anything got out of control.

She sat warily and then watched him position himself at the opposite end of the couch. His body was angled to hers and he held open his hands, obviously indicating she was to lay from one end and rest her feet on his lap at the other. Gingerly, she turned herself, bringing her feet up as she kicked off her black heels. Thankfully, she was wearing black stockings, offering at least a veiling coverage.

But to Denny, the shapely legs that had been his long-held obsession were finally stretched out before him, and dressed in the sexy, black hose he thought the scene was anything but modest. He kept his approval to himself, knowing it would only make her self-conscious, if not right out refuse the offered massage. He found her feet cool, but not ice cold, and felt a whiskey-burn in his gut as his fingers finally touched her.

Alessa was tense as she felt the first graze of his fingertips making the initial contact, somewhere between a tickle and an itch. But then his teasing fingers trailed around to her arch and applied more pressure, effectively digging in to the aching places. Within seconds, she was melting under his masterful hands that rubbed the ache and pain away and replaced them with warmth and pleasure. 

Though it was perhaps a dangerous position to be in, she couldn't help the closing of her eyes as her body flooded with the delicious sensation of his massaging hands. It had been ages since she'd had a proper foot massage, maybe over four months since the last time she'd taken Cadence to get pedicures as a reward for her spring track season. And now, to have such pleasure gifted from another human, her defenses were melting fast. Each deep stroke created a glowing pleasure to wave through her.

Denny's strong fingers even worked the sides of her feet and up onto her ankles, manipulating the often tight tendons developed from her nightly runs. And then his firm fingers were on her shins, kneading the small ancillary muscles alongside the bone before wrapping around to the back to dig deeply into her calves, hitting small knots here and there, pushing and circling to release the built-up tension.

She had never realized how stiff the tissue around her knees was before his fingers were there, rubbing loose all the tightness until her skin could glide over the hidden structures freely. And how had she neglected the sides of her thighs, she pondered, as his hands found the tight bands there and pressed firmly to glide up and up.

And then Alessa's head snapped up as her hands grasped his when she felt his fingertips hit the edge of her skirt that had ridden up her legs.

"That's not my foot," she husked out in alarm.

"No, but I bet it would do you little good for just a foot massage if we neglected the rest of you," he murmured, his eyes never leaving her legs.

Alessa watched him for a few heartbeats. "Stay out of my skirt," she warned as her hands slowly released their grip.

His mouth did a conceding twist, as if indicating he could work with that, and so she lowered her head back to the arm rest, but kept a watchful eye on him. Still focusing on her legs, he resumed his massage, pushing in deeply to the supple flesh. When he was satisfied with the tight band down the sides, his hands moved to the tops, pressing no longer with the heel of his hand, but squeezing with his fingertips.

Though her muscles were melting like butter under his ministrations, the touch was becoming decidedly more erotic and she thought more than once she should stop him. And then she felt the edge of her skirt catch on his fingers and move up her thighs, exposing the tops of her stockings and the straps of her garter belt.

Again her hands caught his, and when Denny finally looked up at her, her breath stopped and some deep part of her liquefied.

"You said to stay out of your skirt. You didn't say anything about moving it out of the way."

"Denny," she warned, but couldn't quite muster a firm rebuke.

"Trust me," he whispered. At length her grasp loosened again, but her hands never left his. He began to slowly rub her again, the skin of his fingers finally meeting the skin of her thighs. He squeezed and kneaded the silky flesh, moving up her legs and closer to the juncture there, all the while her hands stayed atop his. He assumed it was to stop him if need be, but there was something absolutely erotic about her hands on his as he touched her.

At last his hands lay at the tops of her legs, his thumbs stroking her skin just under her bunched up skirt. He knew he was close as he could feel the large tendon of her inner thighs that connected to her pubic bone. So close, he could feel heat spilling from her core. He felt the slight tremble of her legs under his hands.

She was watching him, her eyes half-closed but wary, her mouth opened slightly, her breath kicking out a wisp of her hair with each rough exhalation. She wasn't ready, he realized that. He didn't want her to just feel good, he wanted her to crave it, to demand it. 

He wanted her ravenous.

And so he kept his touch relatively tame, only stroking to fan embers, to soothe discomfort with the intimacy, but not press his advantage. And after a time, she seemed to calm under him, even her hips with the slightest of undulation gave her away.

He pinched the edge of her skirt and pulled it back down to cover the top of those fucking sexy stockings.

"I'd say that's been your ten minutes," he said, trying for levity but the huskiness of his voice betrayed him. "Let me take you home," he asked, siting up from between her thighs.

Alessa watched distraught as he righted his appearance, rolled down his sleeves, straightened his black suspenders and stood ready to leave.

"I think I can manage," she said, swinging her legs off the couch and slipping on her heels. She was embarrassed with how easily he aroused her, how close she was to giving in.

"Not doubting your capability to look after yourself. I simply want to do something nice for you. And I want to see you home safely."

"I'd rather not," she murmured, standing. She was striding away from him, intent on going back to her desk and gathering her things, when a hand grasped her about the arm and swung her around. She looked up shocked as she nearly collided with his chest.

"Stop arguing," he instructed tersely a split second before his mouth landed on hers. His lips instantly slanted over hers and his tongue was there, stroking for admittance. Aroused as she had been, Alessa put up little resistance and allowed him to overwhelm her. When he pulled away, he growled, "Now, get your things, I'm taking you home." He pecked her once more and turned her to send her off. She blinked in irritation at how easy it was for him to get his way. Though, as she went to do as bid, she wondered what was wrong with his way.

On the drive to her place, Denny tried to make tentative plans for both of them over the weekend. She didn't know if she was grateful for the out or not, but she declined stating she had plans to go to Walnut Creek to spend time with her mother. He spontaneously reached out to hold her hand. She didn't know how to interpret the action and so remained quiet as he brought it to his mouth to kiss it. He then asked to keep the next weekend opened for him.

Her immunity to him must have been building, because, though swirls swept through her stomach, she recovered enough to fake disinterest and state she would have to confer with her calendar. He only chuckled and kissed her hand again, before resting them together on the console between them. 

He texted her throughout Saturday and Sunday, sharing random tidbits from his days, asking her questions that made her think, or giggle, or roll her eyes. It was her fifth text Sunday morning when her mother, Eileen, finally asked, "Who are you texting that keeps making you smile?"

They were laying on her mother's bed, both full from the delicious breakfast Alessa had made her. Though she offered her mother a smoothie with plenty of veggies, Eileen had opted for Belgian waffles with homemade maple syrup instead. Alessa was dressed in baggy gray sweatpants, a white tank and a loose, unbuttoned plaid flannel shirt. She looked up from her phone, her smile dimming. She instantly tucked it under her leg on the other side of her and looked at the TV.

"No one. Just someone from work."

"Really? A male someone from work?" Eileen pried.

Alessa attempted a disagreeing smile that came out more like a grimace. "A friend. I told you about Rachel Louise, Lou, right? Well, she was the one who helped me with my hair and makeup for the party," she replied, still not looking at her mother, seemingly distracted by the cooking show. Eileen's eyes were skeptical, but she didn't push the matter further, understanding her daughter had secrets that weren't easily prized from her. 

Her weekend with her mother was over too quickly; it had been nearly a month since she had made the twenty-five mile drive out to see her. And as Eileen wasn't feeling well, they had spent the majority of the time in her cluttered, tiny room, much to Alessa's relief, and out of the company of Bill.




Trivial Pursuits Ch. 13



It seemed either fitting or unfair that her mother's health was failing and yet her misery should be compounded by marriage to a creep and an unhealthy attachment to crap. Her bedroom was beginning to look like a hoarder's, and every time Alessa offered to help clean it up, Eileen only made some slightly irritated excuse that she simply didn't have enough storage for everything. 

And so she left Sunday afternoon with something of a burden in her heart, a vague notion twisting in her gut that somehow her mother's life would have been different, better, if her father hadn't left. But she didn't know if she believed that anymore. It was at least the fifth time she had checked her phone for a text that she decided to be the first and contact him.

Alessa: Staying busy?

Denny: Just about to make dinner. Gotta keep a hungry boy fed

How was your mom?

Alessa:What have you been doing to make you so hungry?

Fine. We just hung out.

Denny:Went out on the sailboat. Got rained on, but then the sun came out. Nice. Lots of hard work, but worth it. I should take you out soon.

I'm sure she was happy to see you. You work too much 

Alessa: Not likely

And don't make me feel worse than I do 

Denny:To which part?

Alessa:All of it actually

Denny:Why do you feel bad?

And I will get you out there. It's too beautiful to not at least TRY once.

Alessa:She's not really feeling well, so we sit in her room and just watch movies and talk. Its good quality time, but I wish she didn't feel so bad and that she could do more with her life. 

Sorry to overshare.

Just depressed.

I should go for a run.

See you tomorrow 

Alessa snarled at the plethora of unsolicited texts she had unloaded on him. Pathetic, she berated herself and then went to change into her running gear, despite the waning evening light. She ran fast, knowing her time would be short, and when she arrived back at her place thirty minutes later, there was a car in the drive.

It was Denny.

She walked up to his window and knocked. He rolled down the window.

"What are you doing here?"

"You never answered my texts."

She frowned. "I went running, I told you. I turn notifications off so they don't bother me."

"Well, I wanted to cheer you up," he explained, opening his door. She took a step back and watched him pull a paper sack out. "I brought food. I thought we could do dinner together."

She blinked. "You're kinda pushy, you know that?"

"Yeah, but I think I'm exactly what you need," he quipped with a cocky grin. "Come on, show me your pad."

Fighting a smile, Alessa rolled her eyes and turned to lead him up the stairs to her apartment. Denny was unsurprised to find it clean and clutter free, wondering if she owned anything but the bare furniture, her wardrobe and the books on the one bookshelf. The space was rather self-explanatory, with little separation between the living, dining, and bedroom, only the furniture in each section designating its function. A kitchen was to the back left, and her bathroom around a nook out of sight.

"This is it," she stated, a note of uncertainty in her voice.

He glanced once about the white-washed space, noting little color but plenty of variety of texture. "It's nice. It's you."

She eyed him as if she wasn't quite certain how to take his remark and then held out her arm to gesture to the kitchen. She followed behind and watched him unload a bunch of spinach, bell peppers, mushrooms, sausage, eggs and a baguette. 

"Omelet?" she guessed.

"I thought it'd be an easy whip up," he explained. She nodded and then watched a little uneasy, a little surprised at how easily he found his way around her efficient kitchen, pulling cutting boards, knives, skillets, oil, and seasonings from the many hidden crannies. 

"Wanna help me cut while I get the sausage going?"

She only nodded before washing her hands and then began to dice her way through the produce. They worked in companionable silence as they each went about their respective tasks, and before long, had compiled two delicious looking omelets.

They each took a plate and started for a seat, but Denny paused in his march as Alessa passed the small dining table and headed for the overstuffed couch, and then slid to the floor, leaning her back against it. He cocked a grin and joined her.

"Oh, the wine," he said suddenly, and hopped up to retrieve it. He brought back two glasses, handing her one. And then they were silent again.

"This is pretty good," she commented, the beginnings of a smile on her lips. "They're so fluffy."

Denny nodded taking another bite. "Gotta whip them really well, get loads of air in there." After a pause, he opted for conversation. "So your weekend was okay?"

She shrugged a shoulder. "Well, like I said, we didn't do anything. Which, in a way, was nice to be able to decompress given...last week," she cast him a sideways glance and suppressed a rising blush.

He nodded in understanding. "But it's hard."

She nodded. "It's hard."

"She's sick?"

Her answers were slowing in coming. "Yeah. She has an autoimmune disease. Lupus," she said with a lilt in her voice, wondering if he'd heard of it.

"Are you asking me or telling me?" he teased.

She chuckled. "No. Just curious if you know anything about it."

"No, not really," he admitted.

"Well, it's no fun. She has really bad inflammation throughout her body, especially her joints. Gets bad headaches that last for days. Her tendons get all irritated, so she can't really move too much. And then she just has pretty severe chronic pain. Maybe not unbearable all the time, though it can be, but she's in some amount of pain all the time, as in never not hurting somewhere."

"Sound pretty rough." Again there was silence, Alessa unsure what, if anything, should be said further about it. "So, it gets you down, seeing her like that," he observed.

She nodded, finishing the last bite of her omelet. "And you know, I want to spend time with her, but we just stay cooped up in that room, and we talk about how she feels, and what the doctors are doing and when her next appointment is," all the while cramped in that room surrounded by all that crap, she groaned inwardly.

Her knees were drawn up now, her arms around them and her chin resting thoughtfully on top. And then she felt an arm circle around her, pulling her into his side. "Sorry," he murmured, placing a kiss at her temple. Her response at first was stiff, but he noted with some amount of satisfaction that she quickly relaxed into him, not fighting his hold.

Eventually, he was able to move them up to the fat couch where he stretched out and pulled her on top of him. As expected, she had a moment of objection, but his strong arm and gentle words were enough to gain her compliance. As she lay against his chest, her ear listening to his heart beat, he told her about his cousins back in Texas and the many misadventures they prodded one another into. He revealed he was named for the town of Denton where his father was from, that his favorite color was a cool jade, that he frequently flew in his dreams, and he did regret not designing buildings for a living.

They awoke in the early hours of the morning with a start, neither knowing who jolted first or at what time in the previous evening they had fallen asleep. Either way, Denny got up to leave, kissing her sweetly before he departed. She watched him walk for the door, wishing he would stay, but knowing she wouldn't ask. And so she locked the door behind him and checked the time. As it was only four-thirty, she plugged in her dead phone and crawled into bed for another hour and half.

That Monday morning started out frantically, and she instantly regretted not arriving at the office before seven-thirty. There was an error in one of the reports she had sent to a senior partner, to which she had to explain herself and come up with a solution on the spot while standing in his office. Then she had to yet again turn Josh Caplin down when he asked to take her out Friday. She made the excuse that she was already seeing someone else, and was about to add to the argument dating colleagues was a bad idea, but then thought against it should her relationship with Denny ever become general knowledge. On top of all that, she was a little dehydrated and the wine from the previous night had left her with a groggy and slightly pained head.

Aside from the upsets at work, she still had the doctor's appointment to deal with, the earliest availability being that Wednesday, much to Denny's chagrin when he asked. She braved it with the same cool veneer she had used at the clinic, glossing over any intimate questions with clinical detach, removing herself from her person and the related discomfort. Her doctor gave her several options, one being a diaphragm, a second a shot that would last for three months, or the daily pill. At first she was inclined to go with the shot so she wouldn't have to face the daily reminder, but that felt cowardly and unsettled her for some reason. As if it was a deliberate act to escape her culpability for the relationship, and wasn't learning to take on the onus of being involved with another the entire purpose of their relationship? So in the end, she opted for the pill, which was ready for pick up Friday morning.

And so it was, with that one pill taken, her run at the gym over, and her work for the time being complete, she headed back to the office where Denny waited to take her home for their first weekend together.

****

Thanks for reading. Please vote and comment if you want, I enjoy reading your feed back, good or bad. And thanks to AlreadyTaken for her editing skills and advice.



Trivial Pursuits Ch. 14



Dear Readers,

Welcome back to another chapter. I hope you enjoy the long-awaited 'development' and hope you find the result was worth the pace. Please keep the feedback coming, I always appreciate hearing your thoughts. And as always, thank you to AlreadyTaken for catching all my many typos ;)

Enjoy,

Titania

******

CHAPTER FOURTEEN





Trivial Pursuits Ch. 14



She stood breathing heavily over the sink, staring at her flushed face, wondering what she was afraid of when his touch made her feel greater than anything else she had ever experienced. Much to her private embarrassment, she cleaned herself of the copious amounts of liquid arousal their kissing session had created.

While Alessa regrouped in the bathroom, Denny stood in the open door of the freezer, allowing the ice burn to cool his boiling body. It was going to be a long weekend.

*******

"Huh, and is that a common theme, do you find?"

"What is that?" Alessa asked as she crunched on her popcorn and chocolate covered raisins. After she had returned from the bathroom, they had made floats together, the air filled with the unresolved sexual tension. Bbut Denny had done his best to make her smile with his teasing manner. They then settled on the couch where they had for the last three hours watched one of Alessa's favorite Korean shows. They had eventually moved on to popcorn and chocolates, though he noticed she still grabbed only the smallest amount. As they wouldn't be able to watch all the episodes that night, Alessa was enumerating the many trials the main heroine would go through in order to support the man she loved, and Denny had begun to question its similarity to other shows she watched.

"You know, how the main character is very self-sacrificing with a quiet strength that doesn't reveal itself in the face of hardships."

Alessa cocked her head. "I suppose, yeah, that does happen a lot, in various forms. Which makes sense though, right? The honor and dignity and yet at the same time the humbleness."

Denny nodded in agreement, quietly wondering about her attraction to such characters. It was nearing midnight when Denny suggest a change in entertainment.

"What did you have in mind?"

"Like I said, I have some games we could play."

She eyed him speculatively. She opened her mouth to say something he guessed would be of the objecting nature, and raised an eyebrow at her in warning, silently reminding her about her agreement to not be so argumentative.

"Okay, what games?"

"Well I have that block tower game where you remove a piece at a time and set it on top without knocking the tower over. Or cards; we could play poker," he suggested.

She lifted an eyebrow at him. She thought he had said they were adult games, but those didn't seem too bad. "Okay, how about the tower game." 

Denny gave a wolfish half grin. "Good choice." He hopped up to get it and instructed they should sit around his coffee table. She settled on one of the large floor pillows, watching him as he curiously continued grinning like that cat with the cream. 

"So this one is...altered," he began explaining as he kneeled across from her, pulling the blocks in the tower form carefully from the box. When it was all set up, he took a top block off and showed her the handwritten instructions on the block. "I took the time to write on quite a few of them. Not all of them, but a lot, special instructions for the player to complete."

Alessa sat up straighter, preparing for the worst.

"As you can read on this one, 'Give your opponent a one-minute kiss on the body part of your choice' you have to fulfill the written instructions. Some are fairly easy, like confess something, while others...require more and are therefore more challenging. Got it?"

He could see her expression, on the edge of fear and excitement. One beat. Then two. "Okay, I'll try. Penalty for not completing?" 

He shrugged, "I guess you could just be declared the instant loser, but where's the fun in that? Why not push yourself to the edge?" That wolfish grin was back and she could feel her stomach dropping and her nerves firing up.

Another nod. "Okay, I promise to complete whichever one I draw."

"That's my girl," he praised, and then offered to go first. She watched him intently, a hidden smile tightening the corners of her mouth at the bubbles she felt from hearing him praise her.

The first he drew had nothing written on it, but the first she drew did. She wondered vaguely if he somehow knew which was which, but doubted he would cheat. She narrowed her eyes as she recalled how he had switched her contract, but still read the tile, vowing she would perform whatever was written there. 

"Remove a piece of your opponent's clothing," she read aloud, trying to suppress an embarrassed smile.

Denny chuckled and sat back, allowing her easy access to his body. With a sigh, she stood and walked over to his side. She eyed him just a moment before saying, 'Okay, take off your shirt."

"Well, now if you read that correctly, I think you are supposed to remove the article of clothing, not me."

She was really fighting the smile now. "Fine," she huffed and kneeled down next to him. She wrinkled her nose at his smirk, knowing how much he was enjoying her misery. She reached for the bottom of his tee and pulled up. He was cooperative, at least, holding his arms up so she could pull it over his head. But to do the job properly, she had to reach around him more, moving her closer, and when the material cleared past his head, she was face to face with him, her breath catching as a result.

Then she blinked and cleared her throat. "There," she said, resuming her position on the other side of the table. He was still smirking, but not quite as much as before, and he leaned forward to take his turn. A few more for both of them with nothing, and then he pulled one with the black scrawl.

"Nibble your opponent's ear," he read, causing Alessa's stomach to drop in excitement.

"Just one?" she asked without thinking, only to blush when he chuckled at her. 

"Oh, I can give you more if you ask," he replied with a devilish smile and then he was on his hands and knees, stalking around the table. She thought if he had been a jungle cat she would have been in dubious trouble. And then he was beside her, his hot breath cascading down the side of her neck, his mouth hovering above her. As she sat still, she was alight with nerves, her skin anticipating his lips on her like a memory in reverse. And then there was just the lightest whisper of his lips at the base of her neck, and then they were sliding up and up to the very sensitive spot on the backside of her ear. She was certain she felt a scrape of his teeth against her before his lips kissed her ear lobe, his warm breath flooding inside, heating her head. His kisses turned to biting suckles, sending ribbons of dancing electricity up her spine to shatter on her scalp. And then one sharp nip at the very tip of her ear lobe.

He pulled away and she nearly fell over leaning into him. She righted herself before she made too big of an embarrassment of herself. She cleared her throat again. 

Alessa felt she should say something. "Thank you," was all her dazzled little mind could come up with. He chuckled, amused, and then placed a quick peck on the curve of her jaw.

"Welcome," he said before returning to his side.

When she reached forward for a new tile, she saw how badly her hand was shaking, an obvious side effect of his teasing kisses. At first she was about to raise objection of unfair advantage by what he had done to her, but then she realized, the handicap could go both ways, if she was willing to put herself into it enough to win.

She took a deep breath to steady herself and drew the next block. It had nothing, and then neither did his, but on her next turn her stomach leapt when she saw writing. She smiled ruefully at him until she read what was there.

"Choose to give or receive a three-minute lap dance from your opponent," she murmured distraught. That was perhaps a little more risqué than she had been prepared to be in order to win. But then she looked up at Denny who was smirking yet again. Big meanie didn't think she could do it. "Fine," she said with a challenge and a determined set of her chin. "Sit up there on that chair," she instructed.

Denny's smirk faded a little, but didn't lose that hungry edge. He did as she instructed, sitting on a wide post-modern arm chair adjacent to the couch. He leaned back, stretching out to make room on his lap for her. She stood and walked slowly to him, instantly feeling herself about to balk. Sitting relaxed in confident repose, his bared body was a little intimidating, defined with lust-inducing muscles.

"Close your eyes," she said.

He lifted an eyebrow in question, as if to challenge that that wasn't part of the rules of the tile she had drawn. "If you want this lap dance, then you'll do as I say. You can't watch. Close your eyes."

Denny wanted to argue that part of the eroticism of a lap dance was to watch the body writhe sensually on top of him, but he figured this was as good as a beginning as he could hope for. Reluctantly, he closed his eyes and waited to feel her settle on him. He did hear her mutter, "This is going to be the worst lap dance ever," before her weight settled gingerly on his lap.

For a moment all was quiet and still, but he did nothing to urge her along, knowing she would do better at her own pace. And then she leaned back against him, her back to his bare chest. He felt the luxurious weight of her hair against his skin, and held a moan from the pleasure of it. He felt her gather it up, as if moving it all out of her way over a shoulder. He could tell her face was turned to his as her cheek was against his chest and couldn't stop the impulse to incline his face to her. Then he felt her hands lay atop his on the arm rest. There was a sound like clearing her throat and then a soft exhalation of air.

And then she began to move.

It was small and disjointed at first as she found the movements and then the pressure and pace that made it less awkward. She shifted a little, taking off some of her weight, and when she did so, he felt his quickly springing erection readjust to tent in his pants. And then her firm bottom was pressing against it.

He felt her reaction to his stiffened state, a fractured pause and then a slow and deliberate grind against him, her hips rolling back and forth with purpose and determination. He didn't bother stopping the groan even as he did control his hips from pressing back into her. Her breath was slowly building, either from the exertion of her performance or her own building arousal, or both. He could feel her back arch off him as her hips angled forward, no doubt positioning to grind her own pleasure-seeking sex perfectly against his crotch. Her face was nuzzling into his chest as best as she could manage from her angle, and when he felt her lips graze the underside of his jaw, he instinctually sought her mouth with his. But he was disappointed to only feel her breath as she moved just out of reach. And with one more hard press, she shoved herself off his lap.

He growled in frustration and opened his eyes. Her back was to him as she quickly scurried to the other side of the table. She was clearing her throat and winding her hair over her shoulder as if to order her appearance. She wiped under her eyes before she looked up at him.

"Your turn," she said in a forced cheeriness.

Denny was breathing a little hard from the most unprofessional and yet the best lap dance he had ever had. He sat a moment longer to regain what control he could, shocked at her ability to override her doubtless embarrassment so she could dance erotically against him.

"I won't bother telling you how well you did," he intoned in a hoarse voice.

"Yes, I think I can see all the evidence I need," she quipped eyeing the bulge in his pants. He chuckled.

"Touché." He resumed his seat, if a little affectedly, and resumed the game. "Feed your opponent a glass of wine from your mouth," he read, and then his eyes moved challengingly to hers.

She flushed as she watched him stand and go to the kitchen, returning not a minute later with a glass of deep burgundy. She eyed him.

"I don't know about this," she began, not certain if that sounded sexy or gross.

He raised an eyebrow. "You promised to do everything."

"Yeah, everything on my tile, not on yours," she countered legalistically. But then after another long stare, she surrendered. "Fine. How do you want to do this?"

He only smiled as he sat next to her, resting on one hand and bending his outside leg up to rest the other arm holding the glass. "Lean back," he commanded gently. And she did, resting against the chaise at the end of the couch behind her. It was the perfect distance for her head to fall back in repose and low enough for him to reach over her. He leaned forward, brushing his mouth against hers.

"You don't have any wine in your mouth," she whispered, somehow feeling as though the real challenge of the game was not to succumb to his seduction.

He shushed her, rubbing his lips over hers until they parted. "Don't move," he whispered, bringing the glass to his mouth and taking a drink or two. Then taking a small amount in his mouth, he leaned over her, her eyes nearly slumberous as they watched him. Again, their lips touched gently, hers parted under the lightest of pressure from his, and slowly, carefully, Denny cracked his lips so the now-warm libation could slip from his mouth to hers. It wasn't the same as if she were taking a sip, more like a general wetting of her mouth and her tongue stroked the excess fluid away. And then his lips left hers, only to return again. 

With the pattern and their mutual competencies now established, she opened her mouth to allow his lips to rub tenderly over hers and then part to slip her a little more of the liquid. After another passing of the fluid, his lips and tongue lingered to enjoy the flavor of the wine and her mouth. Over and over it was that he would take in the wine only to pass it to her, and mix the sharing with slow kisses and strokes of their tongues. With the last of the wine gone, Denny reluctantly disengaged himself from his sultry opponent and returned to his side of the table.

"Your turn." If the previous exchanges had left her rattled and anxious for more and escape, his last kiss had left her drowsed and seduced. Her eyes were changed, slanted and dangerous. 

"So it is," she murmured, staring at him. As the tower was becoming filled with holes, she prodded and pushed gingerly until one slipped out of place. "Name one place you would be willing to receive oral satisfaction in public." She blinked. And then giggled. She looked up at him before placing her tile at the top of the tower. She was smiling slyly. "Hmm," she mused, making a big production of thinking about it. "In a private theatre box during a performance of Swan Lake during the death scene."

Denny was smiling and broke out into a full chuckle. "That's quite specific, Sweetheart."

She shrugged a shoulder and looked down at the game. "What can I say? The music is very...climactic?" She smiled at her cleverness. 

Denny full out laughed. "Yes, that it is. Okay, my turn." 

He drew nothing, and then for his next two turns he drew only blank tiles, as did she on one turn. But then her next turn she maneuvered a tile out leaving the tower to stand precariously on only a cross-intersection of two tiles. She looked down to read her tile and then slid her eyes slowly up to his.

He wondered which one she drew as her face was instantly flushed and she looked quite frightened.

"Make either yourself or your opponent come," she breathed quietly.

Any humor that may have been on Denny's face melted as he realized the incredible discomfort she must have been feeling. He was instantly moved to declare she didn't have to complete the task if it was too much, only having written it in his wildest hopes that somehow they might be further along by that point. But before he could say anything, she reached a trembling hand out to place the tile at the top of the tower. It was a move with unquestionable meaning.

Challenge accepted.

Her face was solemn when she looked at him. "Will you sit on the chair again?" she requested in a shaky voice.

Denny couldn't move, his already half-hardened body instantly swelling to full status in those few short seconds that passed as they stared at each other. The edge of fear that had first been present in her expression had eroded away to mere solemnity, calm and cool. She waited expectantly as the air slowly returned to his lungs.

"If that is what you want," he managed to say, not wanting her to back out, not wanting to force her and not wanting to move until he felt strength return to him.

"I agreed to not only keep an open mind, but to do everything, didn't I? Well, I think I should. And," she hesitated before finishing with determination, "I want to."

He had no thoughts left in his head, so simply nodded once and stood to slip back onto the chair. Again, neither moved as she mentally collected herself, the enormity of what she was about to do settling hard and fast in the pit of her stomach. And then, in the spirit of the game, she slowly slinked on hands and knees over to him, mustering as much allure as she could, though it all felt like a mockery.

She stopped in front of him, gazing up into his face, somewhat pleased, somewhat uncertain at the rather intense and decidedly not-cocky expression on his face.

"I've never done this," she admitted. "I mean, I touched my boyfriend's..."

"Penis," he supplied.

"Yes-"

"Or shaft." She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off again. "Or erection, or dick." He was staring into her blinking, flustered gaze. He slowly said, "Cock," allowing the word to roll off his tongue.

"Yes! That's fine. Penis will work. Anyway, I touched his penis, but I don't think we got far, at least, not far enough or often enough to really have learned anything," she rambled looking around, suddenly without her false bravado.

Denny leaned down so his face was just inches from hers, drawing her attention to him. "Trust me, you can't do it wrong." He leaned in just a millimeter more, and she leaned forward for his kiss. His lips lingered there, his gaze drifting down to her mouth, and then he sat back, waiting.

She blinked. Alessa reached her hands forward and then stopped, looking up at him questioningly. "Should I..." but he merely raised his eyebrows, as if challenging. A clear indication if ever she'd had one. Slowly her hands reached for the waist of his pajama pants. Even as he was, she could see the large ridge in his pants indicative of his fully aroused state.

Her fingertips grazed the skin of his abdomen. He felt warm, she noted distractedly. The furthest edge of her fingers caught the fabric and unhurriedly pulled them down his body. Alessa could feel his erection begin to bunch the fabric as she neared his groin. Any second, she was going to have to pull his pants away from his body so his penis could spring free. But that moment would be a point of no return, a vision she couldn't unsee, an action she couldn't undo. 

Denny's breathing was changing, she realized, becoming shallower, more rapid. Though the embarrassment was heavy, her eyes flicked up to his, and as they gazed at one another, she slowly pulled the waistband away from his body. There was movement within his pants, and when he gave a small undulation of his body, she knew his erection was visible. A moment of hesitancy as she gathered courage and then her eyes trailed down his chest, over the ripples of his stomach, and before she reached his lap, there stood his manhood, hard and smooth and utterly impressive.

She didn't realize she stopped breathing until she let out a gust of air only to inhale deeply. Her eyes flew to his. "I suppose this is where I touch you, right?" she asked rhetorically, her gaze falling back to his groin. 

Alessa had nothing to say, none of the clichéd comments of how surprisingly big he was or beautiful it was or...anything, as all thoughts had dissolved from her brain leaving only impulse and instinct behind. She placed her hands on his knees, and then slid her right hand forward on his thigh. Her reach was cautious, jilted with pauses and starts. Her hand opened around him, and closed partially, as if mimicking in ghostly fashion what she should have been doing, what she wanted to do.




Trivial Pursuits Ch. 14



What he needed her to do.

"Come, huh?" she murmured thoughtlessly, wondering about producing that final end. And then her hand closed completely over him mid-shaft.

Denny's noticeably inhaled at her firm grasp, but he made no other noises or movements. And then she gave a preliminary squeeze, testing the weight and girth and heat and give. 

She instantly loved the feel of his dick. She took notice of its smoothness and her fingers just barely touched the tip of her thumb. Alessa move tentatively down and then up, feeling the hard silk glide under touch. She squeezed at various positions along his shaft, paying attention to his reactions to each specific caress. 

In languid licks of flame, Denny relaxed his anxious body under the care of her learning hand, allowing her to explore and play as she willed. If she wanted guidance, he would give it, but until she sought direction, he would simply enjoy her touch. 

He drew in a sharp breath when she finally braved touching the distended and purpled tip that was already leaking. He watched tortured as she curiously stroked her thumb in it and then firmly spread the sticky liquid around the head. She glanced up at his breathy reaction, a little uncertain in her expression, so he gave her what he meant to be a reassuring smile, though Alessa thought he looked as if her were in pain.

"Okay?" she asked.

"Not by half," he groaned.

She looked worried. "I'm sorry," she apologized. "It's just that I've never done this. Am I hurting you?"

His laugh was rough and humorless. "Only completely. But don't you dare stop," he warned.

"It hurts before it feels better," Alessa concluded, remembering how he had made her breast ache with just his teasing caresses. She felt emboldened to know he needed her as she had needed him. And then she recalled with a bit of playful spite how he had taunted her about asking for what she wanted.

"Something like that," he breathed, watching the fire catching in her eyes.

"And you want me to make you feel better?" Her hand, which had been tight around him gradually loosened until just her fingertips were skimming up and down his length. "Was there something particular you needed me to do? Or will anything work?" she teased, her head cocking to the side, her eyes sultry and tinged with challenge.

He narrowed his gaze at her. "You're so fucking cute, do you know that?" he mocked, recognizing he should be thankful she was touching him at all, even if it was torture.

"Am I? And why is that?" she demurred, continuing her light caresses. Suddenly free from the awkwardness that had been present not ten seconds before, Alessa dropped her gaze to study him rather dispassionately. She let the weirdness run through her before she simply accepted with little emotion that this was what Denny's penis looked like. She trailed a nail up the length, starting at the point his shaft and scrotum met until she rounded atop the bulbous, shiny head. And there was the small hole in the middle, slit and stretched. Her nail dipped carelessly into it, and his hips lurched forward with a hiss on his breath.

"Fuck," he panted, opening his eyes to look down at her wide-eye surprise. 

And then she giggled, as if she'd heard a dirty joke. "Sorry," she laughed. "Did that hurt?"

"You'd better play nice, Sweetheart. You don't wanna wind me up too much," he warned with a near-growl.

She only smiled deviously at him. "I don't know; aren't you supposed to wind toys up?"

He chuckled hoarsely. She thought it was the sexiest sound ever.

"As much as I hate to hurry this along, I think you're supposed to be following the instructions on the block," he pointed out, his balls aching to empty themselves. 

Her mocking face grew somber, and a serious consideration fell over her. "I've really never done this," she whispered again, her hand gaining back the strength it had before.

He placed his own large hand over her more delicate one. Her eyes fluttered up to his. "Let me show you," he asked, and then slowly slid their hands up and then down his shaft. He gave pressure at various points, showing her to grip and control him. Eventually, she no longer needed his guidance as she was quickly moving him to blissful release.

At one point, he made a grimace and when she looked up at him, he muttered something about needing moisture. And then an erotic vision flashed in her mind and her hand stilled. Again looking at him, Denny watched as she removed her hand and slowly brought her hand to her mouth. Two fingers, much in imitation of the scene on the couch, slid into her mouth. Denny's mouth sat agape as he watched her suck them, working them in her moist cavern until she was able to pull them out. They glistened with her saliva, and with a cautious hand, she reached back for him.

He groaned.

And then her hand slipped more easily up and down, her grip sliding with ease and purpose. As Denny's breathing increased, Alessa gained in rigor and even sat taller against his legs. Her left hand joined to help squeeze his shaft before finding its way to the hot and lumpy sac at the base. She squeezed with wonder, feeling the unique sensation of his soft flesh there. 

"Fuck, Sweetheart," Denny panted, watching her heavy, entranced expression. She looked up at him with those big blue eyes and he reached forward to stroke her smooth cheek. "You're doing so good," he whispered with labored breath.

"Are you going to come? Am I making you come?" she asked, completely absorbed in her task and his response. 

"Oh, Sweetheart, fuck. Yes," he groaned. Alessa watched completely fascinated by his pained expression, his narrowed eyes and furrowed brow and bottom lip between his teeth. His head dropped back and his breathing increased. She could feel it, feel the change, the tightening. Such strange, new sensations.

"I'm going to come, maybe you want..."

But he couldn't finish as his breath rushed fully out only to be gasped painfully in. "Alessa, Sweetheart," Denny warned looking down at her beautiful face that was set with determination.

"I want to see you come, Denny," she whispered, needing it for him almost as much as he needed it for himself.

The spasm was there immediately, tightening the muscles of his abdomen, causing his hips to jerk up and the tissue of his scrotum to clench as his shaft released shot after shot of liquid, all accompanied by a furious growl from deep in his chest. Alessa's hands continued milking him through the last of his release, and in anticipation of his climax, she had leaned to the side out of the way, but wasn't able to completely dodge all of the discharged semen as some of it splashed her shoulder bared by the tank top. Breathing heavily from the intensity of the scene she'd not only witnessed but actually participated in, Alessa reached up to her hair that was still down around her shoulders and felt the quickly cooling gooey liquid.

It should have been gross to be covered in his ejaculate, but that wasn't what she felt in that moment as she brought her hand down to study the substance. "You got me," she whispered as he continued panting.

Denny was about to apologize as his bleary eyes opened and looked down at her, but stopped when he saw the lust-induces daze of her expression. He slipped the waistband of his pants over his deflating genitals, and taking a deep breath, reached for her hand.

"Come on; let's get you cleaned up." He took a paper towel left over from the pizza and wiped his sticky, white mess from the floor, before leading her to his bathroom where he leaned her against the counter and retrieved a washcloth. He studied her in the mirror, watching for any change of attitude she might undergo, and while he saw signs of uncertainty, her flushed face still looked rather lovely with sensual interest.

He murmured something soothing as he wiped the evidence of his orgasm from the strands of her dark hair and then the skin of her shoulder before tossing the rag in the laundry. "Okay?" he murmured, fingering her hair away from her face. Her eyes closed at his touch, leaning into his hand. He couldn't resist.

She stiffened only a moment before relaxing into his kiss, molding her lips perfectly to his. When he pulled away slightly, her eyes fluttered open. "My turn," he whispered, causing her to blink in confusion. "Come on," and took her by the hand leading her back to the game.

Alessa exhaled at the arousal still coursing through her body, needing release just as much as he had experienced. Could she let him? She shuddered at the thought, and quickly suppressed it.

They again sat opposite one another, Denny's personal release doing nothing but building the tension between them. They only stared at each other a moment before Denny carefully drew a tile, and for a second, she thought it would be over as the perforated tower teetered precariously, but somehow it managed to hold fast. The tile had writing on it; she could see it from where she sat.

"Lick whip cream off your opponent's body part of choice," he read and looked up for her reaction. Too overcome with the intensity of his gaze and the exciting promise the instructions held, Alessa looked away.

She could feel her face heat almost painfully when he stood and walked to her. Uncertain of what he intended, she looked up questioningly. He simply held his hand out to her, dragging her up and along to the kitchen.

Alessa stood, uncomfortable, as he went to the refrigerator and pulled out a silver canister that she had seen at her coffee shop. It was the expensive sort that instantly turned heavy cream into frothy foam, and when he turned to her, she was semi-relieved that his expression wasn't playful or teasing, somehow thankful that he wasn't mocking her discomfort, but accepting that this was difficult for her. He stood leaning against the counter, and she could read the command in his expression.

She took the three steps between them, closing the gap until they were nearly touching. She waited to hear what he wanted, preparing herself to agree no matter the anxiety it caused. Denny turned slightly to place the canister on the counter behind him, before turning to her. A gentle, but firm hand in her hair, he presented her face to his mouth and claimed her lips with a passionate kiss.

It wasn't what she had expected, but she was momentarily relieved to simply give into the request that was equally pleasurable to her. Denny knew how to kiss, she thought fleetingly, quickly seized up by the sweetness of his finesse. His mouth parted her lips and his searching tongue slipped sinuously against hers, stroking it and causing a pleasure wave to speed down her spine. Her hands were around his shoulders as she opened herself to him, realizing that kissing him was no longer about tolerating him. She loved it. She welcomed it. She wanted it.

She needed it.

A startled cry escaped her lips when his arms, which were around her waist, tightened and turned her while simultaneously lifting her up. Her bottom found the countertop though he never stopped kissing her. The hand that had been gentle in her hair tightened enough to control her head, pulling it back so his mouth could attack the flesh of her exposed neck. Shivers raced up her scalp and down her back. And then his lips were back on hers, kissing her with bites and suckles and licks.

"Alessa," he said as his hand at her back snaked under the bottom of her tank and found the sensitive skin of her lower back. It wound around to her abdomen and quickly ascended toward her chest. She felt the arousal of her sex surge again in anticipation of his grasp upon her aching breast. But it didn't come, only the teasing, taunting caresses all around, tickling and alighting her on fire.

His harsh breath was in her ear as he nibbled quite hungrily. "I want this shirt off," he told her, but made no move to remove it himself. She heard him and understood what he wanted, but it took some moments before she could separate herself enough from him to give his request any amount of serious thought.

"Take it off for me, please," he asked, still massaging her scalp with the one hand while the other trailed maddening circles on her stomach. It was too much.

And it wasn't enough.

He had driven her quickly insane, and suddenly she ached for more, ached beyond the confines of her comfort level, and though her frightened little mind wiggled for her to stop it, she knew she didn't want to; she knew she couldn't stop, not here, not with so much left unsatisfied.

Trembling, her fingers found the hem of her shirt, and with a deep inhalation, she lifted it above her head, catching her hair around one shoulder as she pulled it clear. Her hands held the rolled material on her lap, her arms encroaching on the sides of her chest as she fought the desperation to hide herself.

Denny's intensity never dwindled, but it was coupled with a caring turn of his eyes that seemed like a soothing stroke down her spine. His hands touched either shoulder, trailing calming fingers down her arms until they reached her hands and continued seamlessly to remove her shirt from her. It left her arms relaxed to her sides, though her stomach clenched nervously. She wanted his touch, but she was afraid of it, as well as his roving, hungry eyes on her exposed flesh.

Again his hands were at her shoulders, but this time his fingers caught the straps of her black bra and pulled them off her shoulders to hang inelegantly at the top of her arms. It took all of her power to stifle a moan as one hand trailed the top edge of a cup, making her feel as though flames licked her skin. 

"Take this off for me?" he asked gently again as his hand trailed down between her breasts and down her quivering stomach. She slowly did as bid, reaching behind her to unclasp it, but was incapable of removing it completely. However, as he had already slid the straps down, the weight of the bra eventually pulled it free and clear of her chest.

They stared into one another's eyes as her breasts were finally fully exposed. She watched the slow slide of his gaze down her face, over her parted lips, and down her throat to take in her breasts. It was strange, she realized as she felt her skin flush pink; she knew she was beautiful, but never felt as beautiful as she did with Denny's palpable approval. Desire glowed in his eyes, and she felt a curious purpose because he approved of her.

And then he gazed back up into her eyes, checking the state of her emotions. "Ready?" he asked.

She swallowed nervously, but nodded, a look of serious preparation on her face. Denny nodded, too, and then picked up the cold can of cream. He readied the trigger and pointed the nozzle at one hardened nipple. And then he squeezed.

Alessa squeaked out in surprise at the intensely cold foam rapidly covering her nipple, paining and arousing it all at the same time. "Steady," he murmured encouragingly, and then turned the can to the other breast. It was just as cold the second time, but she was at least a little prepared, even if the discomfort was the same.

Setting the can down, Denny reached up to brush her hair back. "Cold?" he asked gently. She nodded quickly. "Painful?" Again she nodded. "Want me to make it better?" he murmured, and before she could agree, his head was dipping and his tongue was flicking.

Within seconds the cream was gone from one areole, and then engulfed in his hot, hungry mouth, suckling hard, intensifying the pained ache that had already existed. Alessa's hand flew to his hair, threading her fingers through and grasping tightly as her head fell back and her chest thrust forward, needing him to crush the sharp ache away.

Eventually, he moved to the other nipple, drawing sharp pleasure from deep inside her to make the turgid tip throb desperately. He even nipped it with his teeth, causing her to moan and move her pelvis forward. For a moment, Denny stood his ground, allowing her lower body to use him as a humping post, even contributing a thrust or two of his own to hitch her arousal even higher. But after several minutes of making love to her breasts, his once hungry mouth left her chest to give her a chaste kiss.

Before Alessa had time to orient herself, he was handing her back the gray tank top, but kept her black bra for himself. "Your turn," he informed her. He was greatly rewarded to see despondency mar her features. She was clearly disappointed. Good; he didn't know how much more he could take himself. He had never put himself through so much torture in order to seduce anyone before; it was taking a considerable amount of perseverance, a resolve to match even the most stalwart explorers of the Royal Geographical Society.

He stepped away from her, giving her space to slide down off the counter. He could see her trembling when she looked up at him, an uncomfortable question in her expression. He reached out a hand to tuck her hair behind her ear and then leaned down for one more kiss.

Alessa was bereft that he had stopped his attention to her breasts, and so when his mouth touched hers, she quickly melted into him, her hands sliding to his shoulders as she drove her tongue forward seeking his. Denny was surprised by her ardor, but quickly recognized her growing desire. He decided to provoke her passion even more in hopes it would serve his own purposes. He temporarily gave her what she craved, stroking his tongue against hers, caressing her back and buttocks. When he felt her smash herself against him, he decided it was enough, and pulled away. An innocent kiss to the tip of her nose and then he was out of her reach and walking from the kitchen. He smiled when he heard her exasperated huff.

Denny was already sitting at his side of the coffee table when she arrived. She was bristled and agitated and no longer knew if she wanted to play this game. But it was her turn, and so with a shaking hand, she reached to pluck a tile free. Unfortunately, her coordination was adequately disturbed and the tower could not withstand her clumsy attempt at dislodging only one piece. It fell with a loud tumbling crash on the glass.

Denny laughed and declared himself the winner.

"As the winner, I get to decide the next activity, and as it is nearing one-thirty, I choose bed." He grinned like the Cheshire cat, toothy and full of mischief.

Alessa admitted she was tired, but was wary of his intent. "Do I get my own bed?"

"Of course not," he replied with an incredulous smile. "I like sleeping next to you," he confessed. "And after all, we've already slept together, so it shouldn't matter." He stood and went to the kitchen. She could hear him get something from the fridge and then the sound of pouring liquid. Denny emerged with a large glass of water. "Probably should hydrate after all the alcohol," he suggested, taking three large gulps himself before handing it off to her.

As she sat there drinking, she watched him walk about the space turning off lamps as he went. When they were submerge in almost complete blackness, he was back standing in front of her. She could just see his hand held out for her, and took it with mild reluctance. 

Though she had already been in his bedroom when she changed her clothes, entering it holding his hand with the intent of going to bed-all while frustratingly aroused-made her feel as though she were being led to a torturous doom. She couldn't remember the last time she was in such dire need of sexual release, let alone when she was stranded and unable to give it to herself. But that was out of the question with Denny present.

Or was it.

The stomach-flipping thought entered her lust-addled brain before she could stifle it. And with it now floating through her mind, she was suddenly stuck on it and only on it.

Denny had turned and was smiling quizzically at her intense expression as she chewed her thumb nail. He had noticed the habit whenever she was working out a great problem in their meetings. He wondered what she could be calculating now. 




Trivial Pursuits Ch. 14



"Something the matter?" he asked, slipping his hand up to hers to draw it from her mouth. She blinked as if he startled her from thought.

Alessa quickly shook her head, almost desperate to convince him. She walked to the same side of the bed she had slept on when they shared the hotel bed. He smiled to himself and slowly walked to his own side, pleased that she unconsciously accepted their situation. He cleared his throat as she began pulling back the bed covers, causing her to pause.

"What?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"To sleep in my bed, you have to be naked."

The blankets fell from her hand as she stood erect with wide eyes. "Then I choose your guest room," she briskly informed him.

He simply shook his head denying her.

They were silent as they stared across his large bed at each other. "Will you be naked?" she asked with an edge to her voice.

He nodded twice. 

Denny could see her ire rising, her jaw clenching in frustrating. "Fine," she relented tersely. "But I want the lights off. And I keep my underwear on. Non-negotiable," she stated firmly.

He narrowed his eyes at her with a daring smile, and then nodded in compromise. "Very well," and then reached to the lamp to do as asked. In the black of the room, with only his body silhouetted by the gray floor to ceiling windows behind him, Alessa quickly stripped off her pajamas and slid in between the sheets. She watched his impressive figure unhurriedly push down his pajama pants and get in the bed next to her.

For one long minute, she lay unmoving, afraid to give into the itch in her body, afraid to make her presence in his bed a noticeable reality. But Denny was far from forgetting her, no matter how she might wish for it. 

"Do you remember what I said the first night we slept together?" he asked quietly, breaking into her tense thoughts.

She blinked in the darkness, trying to remember exactly to what he referred. And then something erotically frightening did pop into her mind. "If you think I'm letting you spoon me while we are naked, you are crazy." She heard him give a humorous chortle. 

"What's the matter? Afraid?"

She took a breath to lambast him, but closed her mouth as she decided, yes, she was frightened. She would want his touch, but be too afraid to experience it. She would be a paradox in his arms. Always fighting what she needed.

But why fight it at all, that traitorous voice asked again, making her once more question the purpose of her continued resistance. After all, the pleasure of sex wasn't a deception; Denny had more than proven her adolescent beliefs were just lies she told herself to cope with the disappointment. She wanted him, needed it, she realized. And once again she was back to the very same trail of thought that led her to ask for Denny's help to live the life she wanted. 

As she trudged through her polarized thoughts, she felt a single caress from between her shoulder blades run the length of her spine, stopping at the edge of her underwear.

"That's it, isn't it?" he asked softly. "You're afraid." He didn't need to see her to know she nodded. "That you'll be disappointed? Like before?"

This time, she very clearly answered, "No."

The long, slow swipe up her spine. Alessa shivered at the sparkling bliss of his touch.

"Then what?" he asked patiently.

A deep sigh was all he heard a moment before she turned over in the bed to face him, an empty expanse the length of his arm separating them. While she remained silent, Denny's hand, which had traced sensuous lines down her back, now cupped her cheek, his thumb softly brushing back and forth. "Afraid to tell me?"

Again she shook her head. "No, it's just scary, like a roller coaster ride. You know you want it, it'll be fun, but so scary teetering at the top."

He smiled softly. "I never thought of it that way."

"It's strange, doing this, being sexually active when I'd gone so long thinking I could get away with never needing it. I guess it's just scary to let someone touch me like you want to touch me. Like I want you to touch me," she admitted on a whisper.

Denny felt his groin tighten at her quiet confession. He wanted to cuddle her so hard at that moment. "Trust me?" he asked softly. It was several moments before she nodded against his cupped hand. "C'mere," he guided, his hand slipping to her shoulder and around to her back to gently pull her closer.

Alessa edged her body nearer to him, though she left enough space that they didn't touch. His hand was combing through her hair, a soothing action that made her breathe deeply and close her eyes. She never wanted it to stop.

"This is what you want, right?"

"Yes," she whispered.

"Then you can't just let this happen to you, you can't be a passive participant. It's action that matters," he explained as he continued his relaxing caresses.

"I understand."

"Good," he murmured as he cupped her face once more and leaned in to kiss her. She placed her hand over his as if to guard herself, but his kiss was as soothing as his stroking touch and soon she was melting. And then boiling. 

The arousal that had been humming through her body was quickly stoked again. For a time, they just lay on their sides kissing, Denny more aware than ever that he couldn't push her, but only stimulate her to respond, to seek and beg and take. As his kisses stirred her passion, Alessa became restless, moving here and there, blinding seeking more stimulation. Following her lead, Denny's hand left her face and began a tantalizing path down her neck and shoulders. Several times he fought the impulse to hold her roughly, turn her, push her. But he knew the mistake it would be, and so restrained himself until he was nearly distracted with it.

When Alessa's hands stroked his neck and seemed to tug on his shoulders, her body angling as if to roll over to her back, Denny followed her as long as she continued to pull. While continuing his kisses, his hands slid down her arms to lace his fingers with hers. Gingerly, so as not to frighten her, he shifted their arms until her hands were held above her head and his long, lean body was stretched on top.

Alessa's moan as she pressed her bare chest up against his was all the proof he needed that she was enjoying it as much as he was. He could feel the hardened pebble of one breast and moved himself in a slow, gentle fashion atop her to further fuel the fire between them.

Angled as he was half on top of her, his hardening shaft became pressed against her thigh, causing her drowning brain to catch onto an anchor of thought. Denny opened his eyes when she pulled from his kiss panting. 

She had a few faulty starts as she tried to voice just exactly what she wanted. "I want you to...give me an orgasm. But only with your hands. I'm-I'm not ready for sex. Yet," she admitted. Her eyes were adjusted enough to the dark to see his faint smile.

"Of course, whatever you want. Like I've said before, I can give you anything you want," and then he placed his lips against hers rubbing them soothingly back and forth, not quite a kiss, just a caress with his mouth. "Any way you want," he added. Her lips fell open to welcome his tongue.

With each passing moment, with each fearfully given concession, Denny's desire to give her the greatest pleasures of her body grew and solidified. Damn his own need, he was hell-bent on destroying her in bed. Even without his dick.

With that determination firmly rooted in his brain, he resumed the heady kisses of before, using his lips and stroking tongue to coax moan after moan from her. What had begun as apprehension in her stomach melted away to bubbling, swirling excitement as his hands started caressing their way from hers, down the length of her tender underarms to the sides of her chest and along her stomach.

Wherever his hands went, her skin lit up, causing her to writhe against him. Eventually, his wandering, teasing fingertips found her breasts, drawing maddening circles on her flesh, but never touching the aching center. She whimpered when his finger came excruciatingly close to her nipple but skirted around it. "Denny, stop being so cruel," she scolded against his mouth as she lifted her chest to his torturing hand.

He chuckled. "Cruel? Sweetheart, don't you know torture is half the pleasure?" And then he pinched the straining nub causing her to cry out at the painfully sharp pleasure. He tugged and squeezed and pressed on her sensitive breast, causing the building of something deep inside of her. While she recognized she wouldn't orgasm from only her breast being so wonderfully played with, she could feel the pleasure it created was a different layer to an orgasm, an added dimension that she didn't have with clitoral stimulation alone.

Just when she thought the pleasure was too intense, becoming intolerably painful, his hand moved away to glide over her rib cage, down the smooth planes of her stomach, the sensitive curve from her hip down to her groin. Taking his time so she submerged herself in the pleasure at a speed she could handle, Denny paused at the boundary of her underwear, gliding his fingertips back and forth along the demarcation line. It wasn't until her hips actually lifted up to his provoking touch that he smiled against her lips and skimmed down the top of her panty-clad mound. 

The fabric under his fingers was satiny edged in lace, and given the delicate smoothness of the fabric, he could tell her mound was likely trimmed short. He groaned as his imagination created an image of hope. His touch was nothing more than gentle introductory caresses with the tips of his fingers, as he might absent-mindedly stroke a kitten. And for the first few moments, it was enough as Alessa could no longer return his kisses as the entirety of her mind was focused on those five points of sensation gliding over the most intimate part of her body.

"S'okay," he murmured against her, hoping to entice her to rejoin their kiss. At length, Alessa was able to adjust to the new sensation of another's hand upon her sex and was able to return his languorous kiss. He could feel the apprehension rise, however, when his fingers increased the gentle pressure and more precisely glided down the length of her crotch, hitting her clitoris and stroking along her lower lips. Her breath came in a pace, but she continued kissing him back. She even held him around the shoulder, pressing his chest into hers.

Given the thin state of her underwear, Denny found great satisfaction in the dampness he could feel seeping through as he rubbed her sex, gently masturbating her. Though his initial touches had been met with unease, her hips were now slowly rolling in time to his arousing touch. 

"You're the fucking sexiest thing I've ever known," he confessed as his mouth left hers to drop to her ear. Instantly, her sex became flooded with arousal, and where her panties had merely been damp before, they were now sopping wet, so much so that they were beginning to make the slightest of noise. And as she was fully lubricated, her fully plumped folds parted with the small pressure he had been supplying.

Now dipped between them, with only the satiny fabric between his fingers and her body, Denny could easily make the rigid little nub at the apex, and when he strummed over it, she gasped and her hips jerked. He was kissing her neck as he chuckled. "Find something you like?" he asked with a voice roughened by lust.

Her voice was shaky and husky. "Oh, fuck yes." 

He brought his mouth to hers again. "Then let's see if we can do something with it." And then his tongue was in her mouth, and the hand upon her hot and wet core began moving more determinedly, repeatedly stroking over the nub, first up and down then side to side. He stopped to press or pinch before continuing on with the delirious stroking. Their kissing became more frantic as he worked her toward the edge. She couldn't keep her hips still as her pelvis worked in frenzied time with him. She could feel it building, his stroking turning her body into an electrostatic generator. 

And then she was there, the orgasm an electric ball of power ready to explode. Though Alessa had the flashing feeling that she was at the pinnacle of the roller coaster ride, with a rush of fear for the sensation about to come, she couldn't stop the plummeting descent of the instantaneous orgasm that arrived madly screaming, clenching her body with its prevailing pull. As she climaxed, she tightly clutched the back of his neck, lifting herself up to him and crying out in a powerful scream.

Denny was more than satisfied to capture her agonizingly blissful wail with his own mouth, his hand continuing its stimulating fast strokes that forced the last of her electrified responses. And as the orgasmic twitches and groans gradually died, his hand slowed, until his touch resumed it prior soft and tender strokes.

Down from the mindless high, general sensations and thoughts of reality began settling throughout her like leaves fallen from the tree. With them came something she hadn't anticipated.

Relief.

Soul-cleansing, life-giving, heart-rending, empowering, pure, inescapable relief. It had finally fucking happened. True, it wasn't technically intercourse, but it was a beautiful, undeniable, glorious sexual fulfillment at the hands of another. 

"Shit, Sweetheart, why are you crying," Denny asked alarm when she suddenly burst into tears. He pulled his hand from between her thighs to hug her close, rocking her as best he could at that angle. When he pulled back from her to brush the hair from her eyes and the tears from her face, he was surprised when she kissed him. Nearly attacked him. Her crying didn't subside, but the joy she felt was evident enough to put him at momentary ease.

And then she was giggling. Alessa lay back down and wiped the tears from her face, her nose now snotty. And through it all she giggled.

"I'm sorry," she laughed at last. He had a lighthearted chuckle, though he was still confused as hell. "It's just...I don't know."

"You weren't disappointed," he concluded, finally catching on. And realizing by her monumental relief the trepidation she must have felt. 

Still crying, still smiling, still sniffling, she shook her head. Despite the darkness, he could see her beaming smile. Her body was shaking from the orgasm and the strenuous emotion she was experiencing. Smiling back at her, he pulled her into his arms.  

"Then I'm happy for you," he offered, placing kisses along her damp face. She turned to him, presenting her face for worship, glowing in the adulation. And when his lips found hers at last, she didn't suppress any excited response, but was honest in her eagerness.

Unsurprisingly, their happy, post-orgasm kisses eventually morphed into a more heated, more sensual mating of the tongues, and though she had just been happily satisfied, Alessa began moving against him once again, her body now hungry for more. Denny's hands were roving again and eventually moved down her body to the edge of her panties. Again they grazed her sensitive skin of her lower stomach at the edge of the lace. 

And then they slipped under.

Alessa sucked in a deep breath as she felt his fingers move past her last layer of protection, a residual nervous underlying the aroused excitement his deft touch provoked. At first, the fingers merely stroked back and forth under the band, not bothering to slide farther down. It then seemed his fingers were venturing towards the side of hip and away from her sex. She was momentarily confused until she felt him catch the material and slide his hand down the exterior of her hip.

He was taking her underwear off.

"Please?" he murmured in her ear.

She hedged, only making an uncertain noise. 

"No sex, I promise, but I want to touch you. All of you. Skin to skin. Nothing in between," he seduced softly. She shuddered, but slowly lifted her hips so he could slide her panties off. Alessa had expected him to take them completely off, but he left them below her knees. The feeling was immediately risqué, almost dirty even. And then he lifted her outside leg to bend up and then gently shoved it out so her legs made a figure four, effectively opening her sex to his easy perusal. 

Denny could feel her deep, quivering inhalation, but her hands stayed fast on his shoulders and she didn't attempt to wiggle away. He replaced his hand on her lower stomach, only his fingertips gliding over her silky skin. Once more he stroked over the ticklish skin just over her groin and felt it jitter under his passing fingers. As expected, her found the hair covering her mound trimmed short so it was silkier than if it had been left otherwise.

Alessa closed her eyes as she felt his caress on her exposed mound. As good as the first time, but frightening once again. Her stomach tightened in anticipation as his fingers moved lower.

"Fuck," Denny hissed in elation as his fingers at last caressed her plumped lips that were not only hairless, but liberally smeared in slick arousal, his head dropping to rest in the crook of her neck as he fought to contain a forceful surge of desire. He could feel his own precum leaking from the aching head of his manhood, and was lost a moment in agony. It was the smoothest flesh he had ever felt.

Alessa's face burned in the dark, but she forced her gaze back to him when he at last lifted his head. Denny propped himself up on his other elbow so he could watch her dimly-lit face as he explored her thoroughly. He took his time, gliding his fingers down the length of her slit. He held them between his finger and thumb, pulling gently, testing the give and texture. He watched her eyes as she took a deeper breath at the new sensation of his fingers parting her.

He stroked back up to the top of her folds, familiarizing himself with the feel of the sensitive nub now unclothed and bare to his marauding fingers. And though she felt a tad overly sensitive after her previous orgasm, his touch was so masterful she couldn't stop her rolling hips. He had a feeling she wasn't even aware how perfectly she responded to him. When her breathing began to come with quicker and quicker puffs, he eased off his drive to send her over again, and instead decided to discover other hidden places.

She growled in pain when he stopped, but said nothing, knowing he would take her where she needed, even if the route was tormenting. Alessa bit her bottom lip when she felt the end of his middle finger circle the opening of her canal. She took a deep breath as it slowly penetrated her, stroking lovingly as it went. There was a small twinge of pain as it stretched inside, and she arched her hips gingerly in search of relief from the slight discomfort.

When Denny's finger was as deep as possible, he held it still, understanding by the tremendous tightness surrounding it that she needed a moment to adjust. It didn't take her long before she started twitching her hips, seemingly encouraging him along. "Okay?" he asked, leaning down to kiss her tenderly. She moaned a yes, and began to return his kiss more enthusiastically. 

Denny began sliding his one finger in and out of her, pressing in places, testing for sensitivity, taking note when she squeaked or moaned. Eventually he tried a second finger, his own sex organ pulsating at how exquisitely tight she was. Again, he could sense her discomfort, and took his time to go slowly, stretching his fingers out to open her wider. 

Alessa was gasping against him, the struggle to accommodate his thick fingers as well as the consistent rising of yet another climax taking its toll on her control. When he first touched her, she had to consciously force herself to trust that his touch would bring her to her release, accept that she was no longer in control of the pleasure of her body. But his adroit touch, awakening sensations that she had never before felt by another hand, had seduced her body into mindless, capitulating responses. And after her first orgasm, she knew he could give her more than she had ever suspected she needed.




Trivial Pursuits Ch. 14



In his gentle, stimulating exploration of her wetness, he found the secret spot that even she had never touched. It was a deep pressure, a building fire under the surface of her skin. It was duller than the sensations that had caused her first orgasm or even when she masturbated, but it was deeper, richer, a thrumming bass to the sharper melody. Alessa began moaning in earnest as he stroked it firmly, her hands clawing at his shoulders.

Denny could tell by the clenching of her body that was nearing the end yet again, and so angled his hand so the meat of his palm smashed her clit while he continued to stroke in and out of her with his two fingers. Alessa leant up to kiss him, her mouth desperate for gratification. He answered her seeking mouth with his thrusting tongue, kissing her fervently.

Her hips were humping against his hand enthusiastically, grinding herself against his hand, feeling for the first time the intense connection between the inside of her sex and the outside. "Come, Sweetheart, you can do it, come on my hand," he coaxed, feeling the fluttering of her slick inner walls. 

And then she did, crying out as if the pained moan was torn from her chest. Her leg curled up to catch against his bottom, crushing herself against him as she climaxed intensely. "That's it, baby. You're such a good girl, so fucking hot when you come for me," he murmured in a lust-drunk voice as he trailed kissed down her face. He was still pumping his two fingers in her, his palm still pressed against the nub under her folds. And it soon became painful, forcing her to grasp his wrist to hold still against her as her thighs squeezed his hand tight.

"Oh, fuck, Denny," she moaned with her eyes screwed shut. "So good. Can't take it anymore," and then she was panting, her swollen and used sex now aching in delirium. Her mind swam and her body buzzed. It felt odd when he removed his hand from between her legs, but she was too mindless to think much about it.

Gathered in his arms, she turned so her naked body pressed against his, her head resting on an arm cradling her. Her hands were gathered between them, laying on his chest, her fingers slowly stroking the light hair there. And eventually, as her conscious mind returned, she became aware of one thing.

"What about you?" she murmured.

"Hm?" he asked as his chin rested against the top of her head. 

She undulated her hips against him, pressing her thigh into his very hard shaft. He groaned in pain. "You're hard as a rock."

"Doesn't matter. Right now's about you."

"No, right now is about what it's like to be in a relationship. You can't leave someone miserable when you can do something about it," she argued, once again rubbing her body against his.

He gripped her hips painfully. "And what do you intend to do about it?" he growled. "I don't hope I'll get to actually fuck you," he chuckled grimly.

She didn't answer, but trailed her own hands down his body. Denny hissed when she grasped onto his erection. Her touch at first was tentative but soon grew bolder, squeezing and stroking.

"Wait," he whispered and then placed his hand back at her tender sex. She sucked in a surprised breath as his two fingers slid inside her flooded cavern. Finally, he slowly pulled them free, and soaked as they were, he placed his hand around his shaft, smearing her come over it. Alessa shivered at the intimacy of coating his manhood with her own moisture, before reaching back for him. She bit her lip and smiled at the dirty thrill of touching his slickened body and grew more and more eager in her quest to give him as powerful an orgasm as he had her.

As they were on their sides facing each other, her hands barely fit between them as she stroked him, but he was satisfied when she drew her top leg over his hip. He was kissing her again, with his tongue thrusting in time with her confident strokes. Denny thrust his pelvis into her with a hand on her hip, the mock-fucking positioning turning him on immensely.

He was whispering to her, telling her how amazing she was, how she made him feel. And his words made her glow. "Sweetheart, I'm so close. Fuck," he moaned, feeling it swell in his scrotum. "Make me come, Sweetheart. Make me come all over you."

"Do it. I want to see it. I want to feel it." And then, his hands grasping her tightly to himself, his hips giving a powerful thrust against her forcing his shaft to slide through her fists, Denny came for the second time that night, his body breaking forth like an erupting dam.

Alessa was breathing almost as heavily as he was as she felt warm, wet clumps of semen splash on her forearms and then stomach and breast. He was panting in her neck as his mind spun deliriously around in a whirlpool of sexual bliss. Eventually, it faded and he was able to return to a dreamy reality in which he held the most desirable woman in his arms. 

He rolled them until he lay over her, his hand finding hers again to loop their hands together. He trailed long, loving kisses down her face until his lips found her mouth and moved lazily over it. "And how are you?" he asked at last, his voice tired from the late hour and the intense excursion. 

She was silent only a second. "I'm good. I'm great."

"Not disappointed?" he chuckled.

"I am many things right now. Disappointed isn't one of them."



Trivial Pursuits Ch. 15



Dear Readers,

Welcome back. I apologize for the wait, but I hope you find it worth it. Please feel free to leave feedback, good or bad. I always love hearing from you guys. And a big thanks to AlreadyTaken, for willingly putting up with my horrific writing and setting me straight.

Enjoy!

Titania

******

CHAPTER FIFTEEN





Trivial Pursuits Ch. 15



"Who cares if they can?" he answered clairvoyantly, and then reached for her, snuggling his body close to her. "Besides, we have a blanket to hide...anything we might do."

She pressed her head back into the pillow behind her to create what space she could. "And just what might that be?" The humor was still in her voice, but it was also laced with that wariness she always carried with her.

Again Denny snuggled a bit closer, pressing himself against her hip. "I don't know. What would you like to do?" he murmured as his eyes dropped to her lips.

She licked them unknowingly. "Well, I thought you said we were going to sleep."

"Mm, maybe I did...and maybe we will. But now that I have you in my arms, I'm thinking I'd much rather kiss you than anything else I can think of."

"Is that so? Well, then, I guess I can't deny you the one thing you want most in life."

"Especially when you might enjoy it yourself?" he teased, his head slowly dipping toward her.

"Especially then," she murmured just as his lips met hers. And while she might have expected a great passionate kiss, she reveled in the slow, firm but tender movement of his mouth. His lips were warm and wet as they moved sensually, coaxing her responses. One of Denny's hands gently stroked her jaw, occasionally grazing her lips between his kiss, igniting a slow-burning hunger.

Alessa's own hands began roaming, sliding up his arms to his shoulders, one hand down his firm chest. Just under the surface of thoughts that were basking in his affectionate kisses, was the reassurance that she was safe; Denny wouldn't try to have sex with her in the middle of the day for the whole world to see. And that brief thought was enough to free her of worry and to be present in the moment, enjoying it all.

Denny's hand slipped from her jaw to snake into her hair, adding another layer of pleasure that caused her to purr. In between the flickers of delight spiking through her, she idly wondered if she made Denny feel as good as he made her. While she was content with the gentle pace of their languid kisses, she wanted to explore, if only a little. Tentatively, she eased her right hand down from his chest, and then, before either of them changed course, she skipped her hand under and allowed the cool tips of her fingers to touch the warm skin underneath.

Denny took in a sharp breath at the shocking feeling of her stroking his lower abdomen, but did nothing to stop her. Eventually, no longer satisfied, her hand slipped higher, stroking the smooth and strong planes of his stomach and chest until she was lightly exploring the wispy hairs there. He seemed to like it, Alessa decided when his torso began to slowly rise and fall in a sensual rhythm above her. She half turned to him, allowing her outside leg to wrap over his legs, curling to anchor herself to him. He shifted his leg ever so, and once again she felt her crotch come into contact with his hard thigh.

Alessa sighed into his mouth as a feeling of bliss and contentment filled her. She allowed him to delve into her mouth and responding in kind, luxuriated in the perfection of the afternoon and his kisses. At some point, Denny's mouth left hers to place slow, appreciative kisses along her jaw and down her neck before eventually settling himself there, breathing her scent in deeply.

It took her some minutes to realize it wasn't likely he would continue kissing. "That's all?" she asked somewhat dazed.

He chuckled before lifting up onto a perched hand. "What? Want more?" he teased.

She opened her mouth to speak, but caught herself when she realized she had no smart retort, only honesty. "Yes," she said simply, frowning at the dissonance of what she wanted and what she was getting.

Denny's expression softened before he tenderly reached to wrap a stray hair behind her ear. "It's not always about sex. Sometimes it's just about connection. Making out, it's just the simple enjoyment of kissing and touching," he stated, emphasizing his meaning by stroking a finger down the side of her neck to run across her collarbone. "You don't always have to get off, even if you kind of want to," he explained and then leaned down to kiss her once more, his intention clear. "I think that's an important pleasure you have to learn to cultivate. Now, can we sleep a little?" he yawned for emphasis. "I am sleepy."

"I don't really take naps," Alessa mumbled as she followed his lead and turned half on her side so he could spoon her. He chuckled behind her.

"Neither do I, but we've been working so much lately, and were up so late last night and early this morning. I think we'll need our strength for later."

Alessa stomach flipped and she bit her lip to hide a smile even though he couldn't see her face. "Really? And why is that?"

"I'd hate to give away the surprise," he teased. 

Alessa sighed and rolled her eyes with a smile. His fingers were mindlessly stroking her forearm up and down. Coupled with the slightly cool breeze while being snuggled in the warm blanket was too much lulling pleasure, and before she had a chance to resist, she was asleep.

Some hours later, Alessa shivered almost violently, turning into the deep warmth at her back, folding her arms into the furnace. And then a gentle scent she had grown happily accustomed to drifted into her surfacing consciousness, pulling her fully awake as she realized she was smothered by Denny. His arm was around her with his hand rubbing across her back.

"You're awake," he observed, his voice groggy from sleep. "Wanna get up?"

She burrowed just a little more. "Not especially," she stated craning her neck to look up at him. 

His smile swelled her heart. "Well, I don't know about you, but I'm getting a little cold. Wanna come in and get warmed up?"

She really didn't. She felt absolutely fabulous curled in next to him. And that was a little strange. She sat up. "Sure. It is getting a bit chilly," she agreed and stood up, remembering to take her drink with her. She was sipping it as he closed the French doors behind him, setting his own glass on the table.

He stretched his back, his arms going high and wide to the side. He gave an energetic yawn before heading into the kitchen. She stood near the doors, waiting for some indication from him as what to do next. But he didn't seem hurried to leave the kitchen, and after a time, she slowly started ambling around his spacious room, looking at the art on the walls, or the few sculptures here and there. She suspected everything was picked by him, nothing arranged by a decorator. It was all very artistic, but not staged, somehow, genuine and authentic. 

She was staring at the various books on the large bookcase, taking note of the different class of literature he collected. There was standard classic fiction as well as a few newer, more modern reads. But there were also volumes on history, philosophy, and photography. Though by far the books on architecture took up the most space. 

Denny had entered by that time, two cups of coffee in his hands. He silently observed her as she stood before his bookcase, scanning for information she could gain. After all, the contents of a bookcase were just as telling as the writings in a diary.

He sat the steaming mug on the glass table for her and quietly sat in his chair, picking up something to read. Finally aware of his presence, Alessa thought about what to say, before turning and smiling awkwardly when she caught him staring at her. 

"Thanks," she mumbled as she picked up the mug. "How do you know what kind of coffee I like anyway?" she asked as she sat on his couch, turned so she could see over it to where he sat in the corner in his reading chair.

He gave a half smile. "Because I pay attention," he answered simply.

She flushed, and looked back down at the coffee in her hands. 

Denny quietly glanced over at her, keeping an eye on her as she tried to read a book she had swiped from his bookshelf. But Alessa seemed as distracted as he was, and he caught her stealing peeks from her lowered head. After ten minutes of the awkward tension, Denny had had enough.

"Come on, let's go," he announced standing up decidedly.

She looked up sharply. "Go where?"

"Let's go get changed. You can take me on a run, or I can take you down to the gym and put you through the paces."

She eyed him speculatively. Actually, it would be nice to do something instead of sitting around getting embarrassed, she decided. Alessa looked at him with a lifted eyebrow. "You run?"

He chuckled almost self-deprecatingly. "Probably not as well as you, but I get around."

Suddenly, the idea of being better than him at something struck an exciting chord with her. "Fine. Prove it," she said with and evil grin and went to the bedroom to change into her running gear. But when Denny entered behind her, she realized she couldn't change in front of him and so took her bag to the bathroom.

Denny watched her with a curious smile. He never heard the water run or the toilet flush, and as she was quick about the change, he decided she simply didn't want to change in front of him. Odd, considering he'd had her shirt off the evening before and done just about everything imaginable to her chest. Almost everything, he grinned stupidly. 

He wondered if she was shy or embarrassed to be naked in front of him, and then decided that would never do as he stripped off his own shirt and pants and donned a clean t-shirt and shorts. He was lacing up his shoes when he had a fantastic idea.

"What were you thinking for dinner?" he asked when she emerged.

"You mean you didn't have that planned yet?" she quipped.

Denny chuckled. "I do have some food in the fridge, but I thought I might let you choose a restaurant to order from if you wanted."

"What? Let me choose? Oh, my lands, I don't think my tiny little mind could ever make such a monumental decision," she feigned with a Southern accent, the back of her hand pressed faintingly against her forehead. 

Denny laughed ruefully, standing from the chair and stalking to her with a gleam in his eyes. Alessa blinked at the hungry look, but held her ground, her chin even coming up a notch in defiance.

"Whatever are you suggesting, my dear?" he growled a moment before grabbing her about the waist and twisting her around into a dip. Her head momentarily extended back to the ground before she looked back up at him, her hands on his biceps. Their face was only an inch apart. For a moment she hoped he would kiss her. "Don't give me any sass, or I won't let you make any decisions," he growled.

Her eyes flared. "Why you-!" 

But she was cut off by his hard, passionate mouth crashing into hers, instantly conquering with plundering strokes. Her fingers dug a little deeper into the flesh of his arms, and after a moment of the position, he twisted them back up, clasping her closer into his body. She pinched his arm.

"Ow!" he darted away laughing. "You don't have to be violent," he teased. 

"You are such a twelve year-old," she chided angrily.

"And you love it," he said, rushing at her again, picking her up and twirling her to deposit her on the bed. She squeaked out and readied to defend herself from his onslaught, but was disappointed when he simply disappeared out the bedroom door. She was breathing harshly and was just about to scoot off the bed when he returned with his silver laptop.

"Stay," he commanded, to which she scowled. She thought about getting up, she really did, but when he went around to his side of the bed and plopped on it next to her, she scooted back over to see what he was about.

Denny fired up his computer and pulled up a file on-line. It was a list of restaurants that took orders for carry out. Alessa was quite impressed with his taste in food, as equal in Asian cuisine as hers, but even more adventurous in foodie dining than she ever realized existed. He begged to recommend a few strange-sounding restaurants, but was easily amenable to sushi. They ordered more than she thought they could eat in three life times, with a pick-up set in an hour and fifteen minutes.

"Gives us time to go work out and then drive over and get it."

When Denny slid his key card into the reader to unlock the gym door, Alessa breathed in awe as the impressive space automatically lit up. Though she knew they were in the basement, it felt very different with the tall, brightly lit walls and floor-to-ceiling mirrors. Even the fragrance was surprisingly fresh and not musty or sweaty as one would have expected.

Along one bank of mirrored wall was a remarkable number and array of cardio machines, including top-of-the-line treadmills. She turned to grin in challenge at him. "Okay, how about the person to go the farthest in ten minutes is the winner."

"And just what does the winner win?" he asked, liking the playful, challenging side of her.

Her eyes roamed up as she thought, and then another evil grin struck her face. "A ten minute foot massage."

Denny was able to suppress the amused smile because of the flash of heat the memory from the last foot massage ignited in him. "Deal," he said, not really caring if he won or lost, as either outcome would be enjoyable.

As they approached their machines, Alessa suggested a precursory warm up so as to avoid any strains from the doubtless hard pace they were going to put their bodies through. After agreeing on five minutes, they stepped on their respective treadmills and chose their own pace to begin at, and when five minutes were up, they each stepped on either side of the running decks to reset their time, agreeing that counting down would be the best method for keeping track of specific distance in a given amount of time.

Alessa stretched out an old injury while Denny did some butt-kicks to loosen his quads. "Ready?" he challenged with a cocky grin.

"I think the question is, are you?" she returned confidently and then began mouthing the countdown. "Go!" she shouted and hoped on the deck and punched the speed up. She started sprinting at level six, but with each passing minute she punched it up a few notches more. She could hear Denny likewise steadily increasing his speed, but was running too fast to dare to look over to see what pace he was making.

At minute six her thighs began to burn, but it wasn't any discomfort she didn't know intimately and so kept pushing, deciding an even faster pace was what she needed. The pain began to creep in like a vining barbed wire, but still she focused on the rhythm of her steps, the steadiness, the pattern of one then the other. She saw there was less than a minute and at ten seconds, though there was barely any air left in her burning lungs, she counted down the seconds she had flashing at her. 

"Zero!" she shouted in a huffing breath and then knocked the speed down to a slow trot, just enough to keep her moving but not so fast as to require any sort of energy. Her hands were on the grab bar, holding her up and she panted. "One...point...nine-eight," she declared, a little frustrated that she hadn't gone the full two miles.

Denny had slowed two seconds after she...and was similarly jogging along with his hands clenched onto the side bars. "Two," he declared breathlessly.

Alessa's head jerked up and she scowled as she looked at his distance. Sure enough, he was just a few meters ahead of her, very likely making his declaration the truth. She could feel her pulse begin to slow and took her hands away. For a moment she couldn't acknowledge that he'd spoken, that he'd won, and so she looked straight ahead at her pink-cheeked reflection jogging until she felt as if she had enough strength return to speed herself up to an almost typical pace.

Denny was still slumped over beside her, his feet slogging along, but no gloat in his eyes for his triumph. In fact, she couldn't even see his face, she realized when she finally looked over at him. And then he stopped his treadmill altogether and stumbled off, collapsing on the floor, still breathing heavily. And then she realized he was hissing in pain.

A very concerned Alessa pulled the emergency cord on her machine and hopped off to kneel beside him. "Denny, are you okay? What's wrong?" she asked clutching onto his shoulders.

Denny was grasping his thigh, his finger digging in deeply. "Fuck," he hissed.

"Cramp?" she asked knowingly, having experienced a few of those herself. "Here, let me. Stretch your leg out," she instructed calmly, helping him move his leg. "Now, contract your quads," she ordered while she dug deeply into his cramping hamstring. Denny hissed again, but his breathing slowed when he felt the sharp tightness loosen. "Denny, roll over onto her stomach; I'll massage it," Alessa offered without thinking.

The pained man did as commanded, rolling cautiously to his stomach, his torso still rising and falling as he laid his cheek on his folded arms. She was digging into the right muscles, and he fought not tense up at the pain she caused. After several minutes of intense massage meant to stretch the muscle out, her hands were more pleasant, more pleasurable as they firmly stroked a larger and larger part of his thigh.

"You dummy," she said softly. "Don't you know you should keep moving after you've pushed yourself so hard?" But her hands didn't stop the massage.

"Does this count?" he mumbled dreamily after a time.

"Hm?"

"My reward. My massage. Does this count instead?"

Alessa was silent a moment. "We're always thinking about stipulations, aren't we?"

Pause. "I suppose we are."

"Our training?"

"No. Our way of ensuring we get what we want." Denny turned over. "I'll forego my foot massage if I can have a kiss."

Alessa smiled faintly. "You like kissing, don't you?"

"And you don't?" he chuckled. "I just figure you have a lot of time to make up for." And with that, he took her by the arms and gently pulled her forward.

Alessa placed her hands on his chest to steady herself, and though he drew her near to him, he left the last of the distance for her to cross on her own. And so for a minute they just stared at each other, each daring the other, until Alessa could no longer hold back and touched her lips to his.

Although Denny's lips were soft and pliant, they were unmoving even as she assumed he would be kissing her. And then she realized he wanted her to kiss him, to seduce him like all the times he had her. She felt a frisson of excitement rush up from her stomach, quivering her heart and her breath.

If he was giving her this moment then she wanted to discover him, as he had her so many times. Alessa moved her lips gently, tentatively, learning the feel of the perfectly contoured mouth, coaxing reactions and taking note of his seeming enjoyment. She studied if he mimicked her or simply responded. She allowed her teeth to drag over his bottom lip, finding just the right pressure to bite and cause a spark of action on his part. And then when she felt her lips had done all they could, she took another gentle bite and slowly dragged her tongue across the captured lip.

Denny's breath caught at the shocking contrast of the sharp bite and the dull, soothing swipe of her moist tongue. His chest rose a little faster as he concentrated on relaxing under her, allowing her the reins, but it was difficult suppressing the quickly climbing ache. And then thankfully to his relief, she released his lip only to open her mouth over his with another sweep of her sinuous tongue. How wonderfully quick she learned, he thought as a moan finally escaped.

And then there was no holding back, no laying limp and minimally responsive to her. Denny wrapped her in his arms, pulling her just a little more tightly and kissed her fully back. But it couldn't last, she whined internally, as her knees were beginning to ache from the hard, short carpeted floor. Reluctantly, she pulled away, sitting back on her knees and ankles.




Trivial Pursuits Ch. 15



"I think that's enough reward," she panted with a faint smile.

Denny was panting, too, as he looked at her. He smirked. "Maybe," and then slowly rose from the floor, mindful of the lingering pain in his thigh. He gave a few swinging stretches before helping her up as well. "Need to shower first?"

"Kidding?" she asked with a cocky grin as she started walking without him. "Didn't even break a sweat." He chuckled after her, and the tension that had been there before seemed to evaporate as they stepped on the elevators and he swung a chummy arm around her neck, pulling her into his side. He even kissed her on the top of her head as she laughed. Once in his apartment, she put on a sweatshirt and stated she was fine going in what she was wearing, to which he agreed likewise.

The run for food was surprisingly uneventful, except for the thirty-second argument over who could buy the food. Alessa objected to Denny paying for everything, to which he simply remarked he enjoyed it. She countered that he wasn't her father and she wasn't comfortable with him 'taking care of her,' she flourished with air quotes. His final response was that at the moment he was attempting to woo her, and they could discuss future arrangements. She finally relented and tried to ignore her embarrassment as the woman taking care of their order eyed her curiously.

Upon their return, Denny suggested they set out all the food on his sushi dishware. They had chosen food to share instead of their own individual orders, and she was just able to subdue the excitement of sharing with him. While she plated the rolls and seaweed salads, Denny lit a few candles and warmed the sake.

When she brought the food out, the dining room was dimly lit and music played somewhere in the background. She felt the instantaneous rise of that long-developed sense to fight his romanticism, but as she had been doing for the past two weeks, she forced the response down, choosing instead to enjoy his company.

At first they only spoke of the food, commenting on the freshness of the fish and the uniqueness of the salad's dressing. But eventually, Denny began questioning her about the cases she was working on, subtly requesting she open up and share more about herself. At first she only talked in generalities of the cases, sharing factual details, but eventually he coaxed more revealing thoughts from her, nuances of not only her approach toward certain types of clients and casework, but hints of her underlying philosophy. Some of the remarks she made reminded him of their conversation at the auction. He could sense her connection to those with hard-luck lives, not because she was sentimental and optimistic, but as if she had experienced trials of her own.

After dinner, the two stood side by side in the kitchen washing and putting away the dishes. As Alessa drained and rinsed the sink, Denny stood behind her, wrapping his arms about her. His hands slipped under the edge of her t-shirt to graze over her taut skin. As he nuzzled in her ear, she felt her stomach tumble as she tilted her head to the side and allowed him to kiss her.

"What's next," she asked as she kept herself from teetering off the edge and into his strong arms.

"Mm," he began with his lips still pressed against her, "I was thinking about another game. And wine."

"What game?" she asked, tamping down her excitement.

"How about poker."

She rolled her eyes and turned around in his arms to give him a sardonic smile. "Weren't by chance thinking strip poker, were you?"

He returned her smile. "Oh, I'm sure I'll get you out of your clothes one way or another."

She felt her face heat as her smile melted.

"Maybe you will," she answered somberly.

He kissed her then, but it was over quickly, and even as he pulled away to go back to the living room, she had to take a few breaths to calm herself.

She expected to see him back at the glass coffee table, but was momentarily baffled when the room was still dim and he was nowhere to be seen. She walked down the dark hallway to where his bedroom light shone from.

"In here?" she asked, watching him retrieve a large lap tray and unfold its legs. 

"Why not? Be more comfortable."

"Mm-hm," she hummed, unconvinced by his reasoning. She sat down anyway, angling herself toward his side of the bed as he set the little tray between them to serve as a card table. He picked up the deck laying on the bedside table. Arranging himself comfortably next to her with the little tray between them and his back resting against the headboard, he took out the cards, which she realized were all black. At first she wondered how you could even read the markings, but then saw that while the surfaces of the cards were glossy, the actual markings with the numbers and suit were dull and easily discernable. 

"So, I don't have any poker chips."

"Then do we just play hands with no bidding?" she asked sorting through her cards.

"Well, we could. But I was thinking we could make more interesting."

"Interesting, huh? And what did you have in mind?"

"How about truth-or-dare poker. Each hand played, the loser has to submit to truth or dare."

"Any end goal?" she asked cautiously.

"Oh there's an end goal. But it doesn't need naming."

She was silent as she considered it, her interest and wariness tempering her decision. "Any penalty for refusing to answer or complete a dare?"

"Well, that's not really fun to refuse, but let's say if you do you take a shot of tequila," Denny suggested casually. 

Alessa made a face of disgust for the tequila idea, but in the end agreed. "Elch. Fine then. But I'm not really a poker player. You'll have to refresh me on the rules."

Denny stated they could keep it simple with just five-card draw, and then he enumerated the hierarchy of winning hands until she had it down. He dealt, and quite quickly the first hand was played. She won with a pair of threes, a shy smile twisting at her mouth as she laid the winning hand down.

Denny gave a dramatic sigh, and then leaned back against the pillows. "Very well. I choose truth."

Alessa's mind was instantly littered with a thousand naughty things she could ask, but she suddenly realized she actually knew very little about Denny. Not Denny the successful lawyer, not Denny the junior partner, not Denny the amazing kisser. She knew little about Denny the man, the person.

"Where did you grow up?"

There was a flash of surprise and then pleasure in his eyes. He smiled. "Just outside of Redding. Our ranch was primarily cattle, but we had other livestock and a good patch of alfalfa and rye."

She remembered him telling her how his grandfather had all but forced his dad into ranching, but she never made the connection that he must have grown up on a ranch himself. "Go back often?"

"Not as much as I'd like." He chuckled. "Not as much as my mom would like."

She pursed her lips in understanding, nodding her head slowly. After a silent moment she said, "Okay. Another hand?"

"You bet." He gathered up the cards and handed them to her to shuffle and deal. She won again, and much to her chagrin, Denny chose a dare. Alessa sighed as she failed to grasp something worthwhile. She knew the point of the whole set up was to lead towards more physical intimacy, but she wasn't quite certain how to proceed. A few racy things scrolled through her mind, but she wasn't quite ready to attempt any of them. Then something embarrassing, perhaps.

"I dare you..." she began slowly, "to stand up and perform a death scene."

Denny could only look puzzled.

"You know, like a scene from Macbeth or some famous movie."

Denny was smiling incredulously at the clever, unexpected request. Hiding his smirk when an idea popped into his mind, he stood up from the bed and went to stand at the large space at the foot of the bed. He took a silent moment to collect himself, standing still with his head bowed as if channeling the ill-fated character he was about to portray. Alessa leaned in, the quiet of the moment drawing her in until she sat rapt.

In a sudden and dramatic move, Denny's head snapped up, his crazed eyes staring at the ceiling as his hands wrung themselves over and over. His voice was shaky and high-pitched as he said with great flourish, "Oh! You cursed brat. Look what you've done!" He began to slowly bend his knees, making his stature shorter and shorter. "I'm melting! Melting! Oh, what a world! What a world! Who would have thought a good little girl like you could destroy my beautiful wickedness." He was nearly in a full crouch, as low as he could go, and on a dying voice whimpered out, "Oh, I'm gone, I'm gone, I'm going. Oh. Oh." And here his head hung down in death and the finale of the scene.

When Alessa had first realized what he was portraying, she had smiled in amusement, and now with him dead she was laughing and clapping. "Bravo!" she cheered. "Very convincing performance."

Denny had stood and was taking a bow before joining her back on the king-sized bed. "Thank you, my dear. I am happy to see you truly appreciate fine performances," he drawled as he picked up the cards and began shuffling.

She was still laughing when she asked, "How do you even know that?"

"What can I say? I had a younger cousin, Spencer, and he loved that movie. When they'd come to visit on the weekends we ended up watching it at least twice."

Alessa was still smiling, and perhaps it was her distracted focus that caused her to lose the next hand. When Denny looked at her questioningly, she stated, "Truth," with an expression as if she were bracing herself for something painful.

Denny narrowed his eyes at her before he sported an evil half-grin. "Tell me, Sweetheart, do you always keep yourself so...well manicured, or was that special preparation for this weekend?"

Alessa's eyes went wide and she looked forward away from him. She cleared her throat, and though her face was pink, she braved an honest answer. "No, I usually keep myself...tidy," she answered on something of a shaky voice with a breath of relief when she finished answering.

"Why?" he questioned with a smile.

She took a breath to answer, but had no words ready on her tongue. She finally looked at him, slightly puzzled herself. "I suppose, in a way, it was my expression of my sexuality. I don't date—"

"Correction, you didn't used to date," Denny interjected.

She fought rolling her eyes. "Right. I wasn't dating, wasn't having sex, but like you've pointed out, I instinctually still wanted my sexuality, even if it was to myself. So I shave and I wear underwear I think is sexy. It makes me feel desirable, even if it wasn't for anyone but myself."

Denny was quiet as he considered her words. Alessa took the deck and began her turn of shuffling and dealing. The game continued on, with each losing a near-equal amount. Denny had to disclose if he had ever cheated on a girlfriend; he had not. Alessa had to detail her most embarrassing moment. Denny had to share both what he would do if he had only twenty-four hours to live and what he would have Alessa do if she were his slave. Both answers filled her stomach with heat as they both involved her naked. She had to confess if she ever watched porn; rarely.

She was through two glasses of wine by the time Denny won a hand and she was brave enough to go with dare.

Denny didn't comment on the length of time it took her to submit performing something for him, undoubtedly afraid it would be of the sexual nature. He decided to compromise.

"I dare you to fake an orgasm"

Her eyes were wide and she was instantly blushing. "Right now?" she nearly whispered.

He chortled. "Yes, because you sure as hell won't be faking when you're with me."

"I-" she started but couldn't seem to finish. She was shaking her head in disbelief. "Denny, I can't...I don't know how to fake that. What does that even mean?" She scowled as she contemplated the prospect of the embarrassment to come. "You're just being cruel," she accused.

He smiled playfully. "Nah, I just think it's the sexiest thing I've ever heard."

"What?"

"When you came around my finger," he reminded her.

She felt molten. And then erupted in a self-conscious laughter. When her giggles of discomfort died down, she made the mistake of looking into his intense eyes. "I dare you," he said slowly.

She huffed out a defeated, angry breath. "Fine," and after a second looking around, she stated firmly, "but you have to close your eyes."

Denny was tempted to give in, but decided he didn't want to miss anything, knowing there would be more than just her voice to listen to. He slowly shook his head.

She tensed up as if she were about to refuse, but surprised him by scooting down in the bed so she could lay her head on the pillow. "Fine," she growled, throwing her head back and closing her own eyes. Denny waited patiently as she calmed herself down, breathing more slowly, deeply, her hands clenching and relaxing by her sides. He could tell she was trying to work herself up, to get comfortable with the feeling and muster the bravery required to make her moaning voice the only sound in a quiet room. Her feet moved restlessly up and down, and then she stilled. Her breathing came more quickly, a rhythm of several shallow and then a deep.

Her breathing was harsh enough to be audible, allowing her to ease into the performance. Denny thought he heard a noise like a moan deep in the back of her throat, but wasn't sure. Her head turned away from him, almost sensually. Her hands were gripping the blankets beneath her, balling them up in tormented fists. And then he was certain he heard a moan followed by another.

Her body was slowly coming to life, writhing subtly, but gaining in rhythm and momentum. Her breathing was interspersed by moans and the occasional sexy whimper, and she couldn't seem to go long without biting her lip. Her head was rolling back and forth on the bed and her chest and back began to rise off the bed as her moans grew in furor. 

Denny was slowly hardening at the erotic sight of this woman writhing in front of him, but when she whispered his name, her head back and neck long, he was instantly rock hard. He felt himself leaning in towards her, despite being separated by the damn lap tray with the cards strewn on it, and drew back so as not to disrupt her concentration. 

She was getting close to the climax, he knew, by her increased breathing and the intensity of her expression. Though it was only a performance, the little minx was actually doing a decent job, better than over-the-top pornos, but it was still no comparison to her response to him the night before. He hoped her performance would have an equal response on her own body as it had his, arousing her without ever being touched. And then she was calling his name more forcefully, her body straining, her head arched back and hands fisted in the twisted duvet.

When she went limp, her breathing was a little faster than was typical, and though she didn't truly have an orgasm, her face was flushed from either embarrassment or true arousal. Denny finally worked around the lap tray to bend over her. When her eyes snapped open, he kissed her.

"You're so fucking sexy," he growled, before sitting back on his side.

Alessa cleared her throat and quickly scrambled to sit up, her fingers combing through her hair and brushing it over her shoulder in effort to regain some sort of control over her body. The humiliation of the task coupled with the nature of her performance had had a great effect on her body, and she had to concentrate to pretend she was not as aroused as she was.

"Whose deal?" she attempted nonchalantly, but failed when her voice shook.

"Yours, I believe," he answered, watching her, still aching at the sound of his name as she pretended to come.

She nodded and took the deck in a trembling hand. The next round went even worse for her than the previous, and as Denny held a straight to her pair of fours, she was forced yet again to choose. She was about to say truth as the last dare had nearly been too much. But while it had been a challenge, there had been a rush or endorphins from facing something so mortifying, and she had become aroused without real fulfillment.

"Dare."

Denny knew an addict when he saw one. His smile sent a bolt of pleasure through her body; she knew he would make it good. "I dare you to let me draw you. Naked."

She felt the breath leave her, as if she'd been kicked in the gut. "Shot of tequila," she said instantly, remembering the alternative.

"Easy out," he countered, the slightest note of condemnation in his voice, as if her cowardice disappointed him.

She was blushing so hard her skin hurt. "Fine."

Denny gave a nod and small smile. "Good." He stood from the bed and took the tray. He set it down on the large desk as he left the room only to return a minute later with a large drawing pad and a few pencils. Instead of returning to the bed, he sat in the cushioned club chair that was positioned off in the opposite corner. His intense gaze directed at her, he instructed her to stand and take off her clothes.

She appeared to draw in apprehensively, but stood slowly nonetheless. Reaching for the bottom of her workout shirt, she drew the material up her torso. After a brief pause and deep breath, Alessa pulled the shirt off and tossed it bravely onto the chair near her side of the bed. She stood still only a moment as she allowed the frissons of fear to settle away, and then slid the tips of her fingers inside the top of her running pants. Though she had meant to be perfunctory with the whole ordeal, the great mental effort she poured into concentrating on quieting her nerves caused her movements to be slow and purposeful, almost seductive.

The alternating sway of her hips as she shimmied out of the tight black leggings was not lost on Denny, who sat with rapt attention despite his struggle to contain his ardent excitement. She stood before him in just her black sports bra and gray, lace-rimmed panties. Her hands clenched several times at her sides before she reached for the bra and, crossing her arms, pulled it over her head and off. Alessa gave a stuttering breath to stand more exposed before him than she had before anyone else in her life. 

But the truth was that Denny had already seen her breasts—thoroughly-as he had made love to them the evening before. Unfortunately, the knowledge wasn't enough to encourage her to proceed with divesting the last of her garments. Her hands moved as if to take off her underwear, but they were shaking so visibly, she pulled them back tight to her side.

"Denny, I don't think I can do this," she confessed on a weakening, quivering voice.

Even with her head down, he could just make out the lines of mortification on her face. His heart swelled with pity for her. "Alessa," he spoke, forcing her frightened gaze up. "Sweetheart, you can," he declared resolutely. Though the tension seemed to ease just slightly, she still wore her apprehensive expression. "Have you any idea how much pleasure you give me? Just by looking at you?"

That did it, he knew, watching the breath leave her body and the blush that had been staining her cheeks spread downward to cover her revealed breasts. "And once I'm naked?" she asked with more confidence.

"Lie on the bed. I'll tell you how to position yourself then."

Her eyes took in the plan and then she nodded. Unhurriedly, her thumbs caught on the edges of her panties, and with a last breath, she eased them down from her hips, skimming her thighs and then released them to fall to the floor. She turned to sit on the bed, and after a pause, laid herself down, finding a comfortable position for her head on the pillow. 

Once she seemed settled, Denny readjusted himself as he sat, his erection throbbing for attention had become distracting now that her unintentionally provocative strip tease was over. Denny's chair sat at the angle of the opposite corner from her, so he had her shift so her body was at a less awkward angle.




Trivial Pursuits Ch. 15



"Very good. Now I want you to bend up your left knee," he instructed thoughtfully. He considered her hair, and thought it had fallen to look natural but sensual, and decided to let it stay. "Now, turn your face toward me, that's it. Tuck your chin slightly. A little more. Perfect. Now bring your right hand up. No, lay your arm on the bed so your elbow points to me. Good, now your hand to your chin. Curl your fingers just a pinch more. Stop. That's it. Perfect. Don't move."

As Denny began looking between her and the page, his arm making quick, large motions, Alessa's moment of panic set it. She couldn't believe she had allowed him to talk her into posing nude for him. Isn't this what all stupid, college girls did? Hook up with their professor and allow him to take naked photos, only for them to end up on the internet a month later, effectively ruining their college careers?

"Hey! What do you plan on doing with this drawing?"

Denny's eyes continued to flick back and forth from her to his page, but the corner of his mouth turned up in a half-smile. "I guess I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't enjoy looking at you like this anytime I wanted, but if it makes you feel more comfortable, I'll let you have it." She sighed in relief. "After all, I plan on looking at the real thing to my heart's content, so I probably could do without my pathetic attempt at copying it." 

She pursed her lips together as a mild wave of embarrassment swelled, but there was something pleasurable in his confession that put her at ease and caused a languid warmth to spread through her limbs and her eyes to appear slumberous as she watched him.

Denny hadn't done much drawing lately, and it took his hand and eyes several attempts at capturing her general form before they were working as a seamless team. Thankfully, Alessa's position was comfortable, and though she was naked upon his bed, her sex seemed hidden from his hawk-like scrutiny. At one point she wished she had taken the time to use the restroom before they began, but as she focused on his intense study of her body, the urge passed. 

"Are you almost finished?" she eventually asked after what seemed like an eternity under the heat of his gaze had passed.

He chuckled. "Why? Wanna do something else while you're naked on my bed?" She didn't have a response, just a vexed opinion for her fluttering heart and so remained silent. Denny continued smiling as he answered. "Yes, Sweetheart, just adding the last touches now," he supplied somewhat distracted. After another quarter of an hour, he declared it 'good enough,' and stood up. 

Alessa watched as Denny stretched his arms wide behind him, his back arching as he bent slightly backward. He gave a growling yawn and then turned his gaze on her. She still hadn't moved from her space, but at the growing darkness in his eyes, her hands slowly shifted to cover herself.

"Do not move," he commanded, punctuating each word as he stalked closer. Her hands stalled and stayed where they were, though her skin burned to be shielded from him. He stood at his side of the bed, his eyes capturing hers until he was certain she wouldn't move, and then at leisure inspected her lovely form. 

His gaze felt tangible, sliding over her skin, over her curves, like his caressing hands. He lingered at the swells of her chest and also the trimmed triangle covering her mound, but continued sweeping down her thighs, all the way to her feet, and then slowly back up. When he turned his eyes back to hers, her breathing was much affected, her chest rising more quickly, her lips parted, and when she saw the hunger in her eyes, she felt the delicate parts of her body melt.

He could see her bracing for his attack, and so, graceful like a cat, he crawled on the bed toward her. She kept her eyes on him but did not bolt as a screaming part of her wanted. Denny ended on his belly and elbows, leaning above her, his eyes dreamily tracing the tense lines of her face.

"Remember what I promised?" he asked, as his mouth drew nearer to the surface of her skin, and although she felt the heat of his breath, did not feel his actual lips against her. He seemed to breathe fire over her face and neck, as if his lips were searching for a place to land. Too much heaven to choose from.

She knew exactly to what he referred despite the maelstrom of fear and excitement and lust whirling inside her mind. His mouth crept up, closer to her ear. Alessa turned so he had greater access should he decide to finally give in and kiss her neck.

"That I control this. That I have to ask," she spoke, her mouth parched.

"Mm-hm," he confirmed, and then finally allowed his mouth to touch her skin, starting just under her ear and skimming down to the base of her throat. "Though, I think I've upgraded the status of the request from ask to beg," Denny growled just as his teeth closed over the tight cord of her throat, sucking and licking, before turning back to claim her lips.

Alessa's hands were instantly in his hair and at his back, pulling him closer to her. He shifted ever so, putting one hand on the other side of her bare form so he could lift himself over her and then settle his body gently on hers. It wasn't long before Denny's mouth had found her lips and he was kissing her passionately. She allowed herself to be swept away by the ardor of his kiss, his stroking tongue, and the exquisite feeling of his weight crushing her aching breasts.

Ripples of pleasure ebbed through her as his hands stroked and caressed every possible place, starting at the curve of her hip, up the side of her ribcage, her arm and shoulder and neck. Alessa moaned and arched herself to him when his wandering hand finally found her breast. Denny was masterful at coaxing sensations from her chest that she never knew were possible. Before, whenever she had masturbated, they had never been the center of her focus, never gave her any sort of real pleasure that was worth the time. But under Denny's hand, they ached and throbbed and seemed to be an extension of the pleasure center between her thighs. Anything he did seemed to send a corresponding response to her ever-growing slick folds.

And then he was moving down her body, kissing her neck, licking the soft flesh at the top of her chest, and then latching onto one of the nipples. Alessa instantly bucked against him, pressing what she could of her core against him; he caused her to ache so much. And while a part of her recognized she could allow him to bring her release with his fingers only, she suddenly wanted so much more than the amorous pettings of a teenager. She thrilled at the thought of him inside her, causing her walls to clench, though there was nothing there to grasp onto.

Denny heard her moan and then the restless shift of her hips. She was becoming needy, hungry. Her hand that was still in his hair began tugging him back up to her mouth. He obliged, kissing her happily, allowing her ravenous body to dictate the pace. He gave her what she silently asked for, meeting her measure for measure, and when she pulled him closer to her, her thighs falling open to welcome him to settle between them, Denny groaned when he felt her heat through his gym shorts. He was satisfactorily hard, and pressed his hips into her to allow her to feel the very real, very painful reaction kissing her was causing. He noted that she didn't seem afraid of his erection, but instead rubbed her opened center against him, gently grinding herself as he kissed her.

He wanted to touch her, to give her a thousand orgasms, to take her almost violently, but he held back his passion. Denny had decided to only stoke her fire, give her only what she asked for. Even if he had to sweat blood to restrain himself.

He had begun to slowly pump against her, rubbing his hardened shaft into the hot and very wet center of her sex. Denny was surprised with how quickly he could feel a shift in her, her hands were clutching desperately at his shoulders and her expression was pained as her body began shuddering under his. Her thighs squeezed him tightly, and she whimpered loudly into his mouth as her entire body seized up. Jerks and spasm carried their way through her as he held her tightly, kissing her lightly and brushing the strands of hair back from her face.

While Alessa recovered from her orgasm, Denny tenderly petted her, stroking her creamy skin and kissing her as he moved lovingly over her body. Her eyes were closed when she heard him speak from somewhere far off.

"Do you have any idea how much I want to...well, I guess I could say fuck you, but it' so much more than that. Can I absorb you? I think I want to absorb you," he murmured mesmerized.

Alessa's eyes fluttered open just in time to see Denny lean in for another kiss. And though her mind was still logy from her orgasm, she welcomed him, opening her mouth to follow his lead, pressing into him with intent of her own. Denny cupped her cheek, content for a moment just to worship her with his mouth.

But eventually, her lithe body was moving temptingly under him again, and his erection, which still had yet to be granted satisfaction, was throbbing into his consciousness, demanding attention. But still, he stayed the course, only giving her what she required.

An edge of thankfulness and wariness flashed through him when her hands finally reached down to the edge of his t-shirt and began tugging up to disrobe him. Denny complied, leaning back on his knees to slip it off. He paused before he returned, the sight of the beautiful, innocent woman below him looking up at him with trust and longing was enough to cause him cardiac arrest.

Slowly, Denny leaned forward, placing his hands on either side of her head, kneeling over her to study her better. Between her recent climax, the renewed kissing, and seeing beautiful Denny without his shirt on, Alessa's heart was racing fast. Tentatively, her shaking fingers lifted to skim the taut skin of his abdomen, the effects of their activity evident in his quick breathing. She smiled softly, thinking he was exactly the man she had fantasized about all those times. In all her stories, the man was never more perfect than Denny.

While still above her, he cupped her cheek, noticing the smile softening the lines of tension on her face. His thumb grazed her lips, and much to his painful happiness, she turned her face into his hand and opened her mouth, pulling his thumb into her moist cavern. And then suckled.

Denny collapsed on top of her, the ache in his groin now more acute than ever. "Fuck," he hissed, watching her give his digit lavish attention. Not able to take much more, he leaned down for a kiss, pulling her talented mouth away from his thumb. He didn't know if she thought he were made of iron, or if she innocently failed to realize how painful it all was to him, but he struggled to keep his mouth shut and not say anything to hurry them along. He wanted it all to be of her own initiative and nothing to do with his coercion. 

Her hands had found their way to his bare shoulders, and her fingernails digging in were an exquisite, sharp pain causing him to flex his hips roughly. Alessa moaned at the sensation, her sex still tender from her first orgasm, but it also was enough to jar her mind into action, to remind her she wanted more.

"Denny," she whimpered between his kisses. As he waited for her to speak, he could feel her trembling, feel the need in her growing. "I think..." she sighed out, and then moved away from his mouth, her own lips trailing his sharply stubbled jaw to nuzzle into his neck. "I think I'm ready," she whispered, though she had meant to say it with conviction.

Denny allowed her to remain hidden, intuitively understanding her need for privacy in so many things. "What are you ready for?" he asked gently.

She was breathing deeply, almost harshly, and he could feel her fingers tighten up. "I want to feel you inside me. I want you to make love to me." 

Finally, he sighed to himself, almost coming at the sound of his freedom so close at hand. He pulled away from her finally, intent on looking into her blue eyes. "Sweetheart," he murmured, pulling her nervous gaze to his. "You're sure?" he questioned. 

She took several breaths before she replied. "Yes. I mean, I'm still afraid somehow, for some reason. But I know you won't be like the rest. I know you'll make it good."

Denny's heart swelled at her bright trust in him. "Oh, Sweetheart," he murmured dipping his face back to hers, capturing her jaw and kissing her tenderly. "I'll make it the best." And with that, he resumed kissing her, making love to her with his mouth, his tongue sensuously gliding over hers. He made space between their bodies so he could shimmy out of his short and briefs without breaking their kiss.

Much to Alessa's confused disappointment, when he laid his body down upon hers, it was angled to the side, and not between her gently spread thighs as she had hoped. Denny continued kissing her, but now that she was exposed, his right hand could skim down her body, making play over the smooth and soft curves of her heavenly form. 

When his fingertips dragged over her outer hip bone, he bypassed her aching center and continued down the length of her silky, firm leg. Seeking all of his touch, she bent her knee, bring her leg up. When he reached the inner surface of that knee, he slowly began the return, and with firm fingers, pushed her thigh wide until she rested it out. With her other leg trapped on the other side of Denny's, she was now fully open and vulnerable to his exploring fingers. Alessa could feel her already tight nipples become even harder, pining for his firm hand. And then those talented and wonderfully dangerous fingers were finally surfing the delicate, tender skin that stretched between her hip bone and groin. The jitteriness it caused spurred her fervor, making her claw his shoulder and pull him into her hungrily.

The back of Denny's fingers brushed over the short hairs of her mound before heading down and sliding in. They were welcomed by liquid fire as they parted her folds and were generously covered in her arousal. The small bud of pleasure was there for him to easily find, and the moment he grazed it her hips jumped and then pushed against him seeking more. 

Denny was benevolent and stayed to play with it, teasing it in light and firm strokes. Up and down and in circles, even giving it a pinch causing her to moan and bite his lip in response. He chuckled, and in between kissing her soothed, "Easy there, Sweetheart. Not looking to draw blood are you?"

She growled in frustration. "Maybe, if you don't stop teasing me."

He only laughed more as two fingers slowly slid down in between her folds to circle and play at the entrance of her body. "Well, as tortuous as this may feel, it's important we go slowly."

She frowned against his lips. "Why? I thought you'd be so eager, so," and here her hand finally slid down his chest to boldly grasp his erection, "needing it yourself, that you'd just do it already."

When her hand touched his burning flesh, he hissed, and at her bold accusation, he pulled back away from her to look her in the eyes. "Like a beast in one of your stories?"

She blinked, faltering from the boldness she had found. "I-" but she had no real answer for that. Yes, in fact, that was what she half-expected. After all, didn't he desire her enough to become unhinged? Wasn't that what true passion was? A madness of swelling seas no dyke could hold back? 

Denny watched the uncertainty, the insecurity mar her brow. He kissed her gently then. "Yes, I'm going to fuck you hard until you can't walk straight. Over and over. Just not yet. I want this to be good, to be great. And besides, you asked me to make love to you, not fuck you like a senseless beast. Let me show you I can make you feel worshiped." 

His free left hand was brushing back the hair from her face as he leaned down for another tender kiss. And then he slowly eased his two fingers into her tight channel. Aroused as she was, she swelled around him, and it was a slow travail to spread her around just two fingers without causing her much discomfort. When his long fingers were in as far as they were likely to go, he slowly began moving gently inside her, a little in and out, a little twisting side to side. Alessa moaned in discomfort when his two fingers began spreading apart from one another, stretching her achy, wet flesh.

"You're so tight, Sweetheart. I can't imagine how good you are going to feel once I'm inside," he whispered, alternating between kissing her brow and cheek and lips and watching the fluttering reactions in her eyes. "Bliss," he husked, beginning to move his fingers a little more directed toward an end goal. "You'll be pure bliss." And then he was kissing her again, his fingers moving in rhythm to her rolling hips.

His thumb found her nub again, and in concert, her hips, his fingers and his thumb quickly took her to another climax. She cried out against his mouth, one hand in his hair, the other still around his shaft, which thankfully, he acknowledged, hadn't found a rhythm and was therefore only providing sweet agony to his turgid penis.

He was moving his fingers in and out of her, coaxing the last drop of pleasure from her. He continued kissing her face as her body began to cool and relax against his. And then he was cupping her cheek, kissing her with a building ardor, his body surreptitiously moving over hers, falling into place. And just as he was about to steal inside of her, a hungry, possessive part of him wanted to look into her eyes as he entered her body, to see her awareness of his invasion.

"Sweetheart," Denny purred, watching her pleasure-saturated features wake up and focus on him. "Take me in your hand." Though he controlled the groan, he couldn't suppress the shudder that raced down his spine when she obeyed. "Good, Sweetheart. Now, open your legs a little wider. Now, hold me against your pussy." His sensitive head rejoiced when he felt her wet, swollen entrance. 

Alessa concentrated on Denny's stern features as he gazed down at her, but the intimacy of his eyes staring back at her was too much for her to bear. She blinked and looked away, her hips pulsing up at him to move him along. But Denny needed the connection, needed to see inside her as he possessed her. His hand forced her face back, but her eyes were closed.

"Sweetheart, look at me," he commanded in a harsh voice, though his intent was not meant to be unfeeling. He was struggling to do as promised, to take her slowly, make love to her and not ravish her like the beast clawing under the surface of his skin, and his struggle was palpable in the tension of his voice.

Her eyes fluttered open and the moment he saw the deep blue of them, he began to sink into her tight body. He only held her gaze another moment, and as the sensation of another person entering her body became too much, Alessa closed her eyes again, turning her face to escape, to be free of all the overwhelming sensations.

When Denny was as deep as he knew he could get, their pubic bones almost touching, he took a moment to catch his breath and refocus his energy. When he opened his eyes again, what at first he thought was a beautiful sight, he slowly began to understand was a vision of distress. Her brow was drawn in a scowl pain or concentration, her bottom lip was mercilessly bitten between her teeth.

"Alessa, Sweetheart, what's wrong," the worry evident in his voice. "Did I hurt you? Sweetheart, the pain will pass, give it a second," he tried to assure her, his thumb wiping away the tear he saw pooling at the corner of her eye. He had hoped that he had prepared her enough, stretched her enough that there would only be discomfort, if even that. But the tear made him think he had erred.




Trivial Pursuits Ch. 15



"It's not that," she said through a voice thick with unshed tears.

Denny's brow drew down in concerned puzzlement. His hand cupped her cheek, turning her to him again. His thumb stroked the smooth, flush skin of her cheek. "Sweetheart, talk to me. What is it?" He waited patiently, resting on his forearms as his hands stroked and smoothed, soothing over all they could touch.

Alessa's breathing was rapid as she attempted to adjust to the feeling of his body inside hers. When she felt her courage return, she shook her head and opened her eyes. "I don't know," she confessed. "I just felt...embarrassed," she admitted, fresh, fat tears welling in her eyes. "I don't like looking at you," she stated miserably. "I don't like you inside me."

Her last statement sliced through his heart, a tangible pain tightening his chest. He proceeded cautiously. "What do you mean you don't like me inside? Because of the pain...or something else?"

She shook her head and closed her eyes again, unable to brave looking at him further. "No, I mean, yes, it's a little painful, but not bad. It's not the problem. And I do like the feel of you inside," she amended, her hands stroking up his arms that caged her on either side. "It's just weird. It feels too much like I don't know you."

"Like I'm a stranger," Denny murmured, recalling what she had said about the last guy she tried to have sex with, and the ensuing panic just before he succeeded. 

"Yeah," she agreed despondently. She hated the feeling, because it wasn't based on reality, she realized. Denny wasn't a stranger to her. She knew him best of most people in the world, and if she was forced to admit it, he probably knew her better than anyone else. She turned her face and opened her eyes, looking up into his gently hurt face. "But that's not the truth," she said quietly. She thought silently a moment more, and as her body became adjusted to him, her mind did as well. 

"It's just this feeling I've created over the years. Nothing lasts. One day you're in love, having sex. The next, passing each other on the street like strangers. Someone who once had rights to your body but no longer does...just a stranger created by time." She shook her head as the tears filled her eyes again. "I just can't give myself to a future stranger," she lamented.

Denny dipped his face close to kiss her tenderly. She started crying softly then. How could she tell him she didn't want to him to leave, that after her promised year she wanted him to keep her always? How could she confess she needed him to love her, to want her forever when she herself didn't know if she loved him?

When Denny pulled away, he was gently wiping the spilled tears once more. "Sweetheart," he cooed softly, "I want you to hear me. Hear me good. You are not just time that I'm killing."

Alessa opened her wet eyes, taking in his statement but remaining silent. "Do you want me to stop?" he asked tenderly, hoping against hope that he hadn't further damaged her fragile desire to connect with another.

In that moment, with his quiet question and the genuine concern in his eyes, she felt the thousand miles of separation dissolve into nothing but memory, feeling for the first time that she had always known Denny, that she always would, and no amount of time would change that. And then she was ready. She shook her head. "No, I don't want to stop. I need to keep going. I want to keep going," she confessed.

Denny witnessed the immediate melting of her body, the change of her expression. Her legs shifted against him, no longer left in limbo, but now eager to urge him on. She experimentally adjusted her pelvis, adjusted to the feel of his hard thickness lodged inside of her. Her right leg lifted and caught onto his hip, laying over his buttocks. 

"Are you certain, Sweetheart? We don't have to rush anything," he pressed, wanting to feel her out for any lingering insecurities.

She bit her bottom lip, and, looking up into his eyes, nodded. "I'm okay," she whispered. "Please, don't stop," she begged softly, pulling him down to kiss her.

While he soothed her with a tender, sensual kiss, Denny adjusted his legs to lever himself off her, pulling himself out slowly before sinking back in. Alessa gave a guttural moan at the alien sensation. It was nothing she had felt before, the weight and dullness something like a slowly surfacing memory, but too far deep to be known and understood.

He watched her for signs of pain or discomfort, but her concentrating brow gave away nothing. Denny moved a hand to her breast, knowing he was going to have to build her pleasure back up after her emotionally draining confession. She gave a great and happy sigh as he began playing with her breast again, slow and introductory at first, before becoming more demanding and stimulating. Though it wasn't enough to move her toward orgasm, it was enough to reignite the fire that had been raging before.

He allowed her hands to roam over his shoulder and back, one time moaning when her nails scored across his scalp, cause him to shudder in pleasure. When he felt she was satisfactorily aroused, and he was ready to come himself, he switched his attention to her sex, finding the tender nub and began stroking it with his thumb. Her hips jumped in response to the electric pleasure. 

Denny smiled against her mouth when she moaned. He pulled away from her to watch the responses he provoked from her with just the pad of his finger. Though his intent had been to take them over, he slowed his rhythm a minute so he could stroke her as he mated his body inside of her. Alessa's face was flushed a vibrant pink, and as he began to burn her with his masterful touch, she opened her eyes to watch him.

Again, the intimacy of his gaze was too much to stare into his eyes, and so she allowed her attention to be pulled down between their bodies where she could see his hand working magically on her sex as his shaft withdrew and then piston back in. It was better than porn, she decided. Better than reading an erotic story. Hell, better than writing it. 

Alessa closed her eyes again as she felt the wave of decimating pleasure begin to build deep inside her. Her neck was arched as she felt every single inch of Denny's length slide in and out, frequently enough gliding over that deep hidden pleasure center as he simultaneously stroked her clit. Her hands were on his arms, which were to either side of her, holding her strong as she thrust her hips against him. And then, when she had felt a mile away, she was suddenly upon it, the great spasm, the little death, the explosion of the cosmos. Euphoric stars raining down in a divine shower. 

As Alessa convulsed around him, her hands at his shoulders pulling him tightly into her, Denny raced towards his own finish, feeling triumphant at having brought her the proof she was meant for this. He reached back and hitched her leg higher, his thrusts becoming more violent as he stroked through her rippling, orgasming channel. And then, just as suddenly as she had found it, Denny broke through, coming ferociously inside of her with a chain of lusty groans.

Vaguely, Alessa was aware of the sexy, feral sounds Denny was making above her, as well as the strange, filling pressure as he came inside her. She was breathing heavily, but she was also euphoric, and none of the usual negative emotions, like the guilt or the shame that were frequently triggered when she masturbated, seemed to be coming. 

She floated freely in her bliss. 

Alessa smiled, breathing deep and snuggling closer to him, even as she felt him shift them around, moving them up in the bed and under the covers. When she next opened her eyes, Denny had managed to turn off the lights and was laying on his back with her draped over his chest, her head cradled in the join of his neck. 

Her dreamy eyes watched as Denny played with her fingers, slipping between each one with one of his own, stroking and twisting until he settled with simply holding her hand. Their twined hands rested on his chest, and as she closed her eyes, drifting toward sleep, she felt him kiss her forehead and whisper, "You're perfect, Sweetheart."



Trivial Pursuits Ch. 16



Dear Readers,

Welcome back for another chapter. Thanks for all the encouraging remarks and the interesting debates over the nature of these characters and this story. I feel at least semi-successful that I can get you all discussing it :) even if it isn't always glowing reviews. Anyway, so for the long wait, I hope to be a little more productive and get seventeen out to you as soon as possible.

Thanks to AlreadyTaken for her amazing support through this process. Wouldn't be the same without her. Okay, you all know the drill; feedback-positive or negative-always appreciated as well as your votes.

Enjoy!

Titania

*********

CHAPTER SIXTEEN





Trivial Pursuits Ch. 16



Hyun-Joong was quiet a moment. "Denny?" he guessed.

Her eyes widened in surprise, but then she slowly nodded.

He sat there quietly, assessing her. "I guess that explains it," he said at last.

Her eyes shifted up to him. "Explains what?"

Hyun-Joong gave a shrug. "I asked Denny if you'd be a good addition to the team. Wondered if you'd be able to come to Seoul and work in the office there. He very emphatically stated you weren't going anywhere," he shared, a grim smile on his face.

Alessa's spine straightened, her mouth setting a hard line. "He did, did he?" she asked angrily.

Hyun-Joong's eyes glittered as he watched her riled response. "Though, I can't say that I blame him," he confessed. When she looked puzzled, he explained. "If you were my girlfriend, I wouldn't want you traipsing off half-way across the world for a job."

"I never realized you and Denny shared such romantic opinions," she scathed angrily, standing up to leave.

Laughing, Hyun-Joong stood to stop her. "Hey, wait a minute," he said, touching her arm as she tried to walk past. "Cool down, a sec, will you? Let me explain-"

"What? That you're a nothing more than a chauvinist?" she spat at him as she kept walking out onto the street.

"I never said that," he denied, trailing behind her. "I simply said I understand not wanting to lose someone I cared about. And there's nothing wrong with that," he defended.

"There is when it sacrifices the dreams and ambition of the person you claim to care about."

"Alessa, will you stop, please?" he asked, wanting to make amends any way possible.

They had reached the steps of her building, so she did stop, an unhappy turn of her mouth as she faced him. "I didn't mean to upset you. I'm not a chauvinist, just a guy who'd want to keep his girl."

She wasn't appeased, but she felt her steam toward him fade as she understood the sentiment behind his poorly worded defense. "Fine. You're not a chauvinist, just a little self-centered," she conceded. 

"Thanks," he said smiling with a roll of his eyes.

"Listen, I've got to get back to work. I'll talk to you later. Thanks for the coffee," she said as she turned to head back into her building. She heard him call out his goodbyes, but didn't look back; her mind was already focused on skinning the rat she worked for.

Once she was off the elevator, she marched straight toward Denny's office. "Hi, Clare. Is Mr. Ashbury in?" she asked, attempting to keep her temper in check. 

"Yes, you can go in," the secretary answered.

When she stepped into his office, she quietly shut the door, her jaw flexing as she felt her anger rising. Denny was eyeing her, his own mood seemingly equally dark.

"Ms. Allen," he said coolly, "I'm surprised to see you. I thought you had left the office," he observed with a slight edge to his voice.

"Yes, I left to have lunch with a friend."

"Is that so?"

"We were catching up when he told me of his conversation with you."

Denny's eyes narrowed. "And what conversation would that be?"

"He stated that he asked you if I would be an asset to the firm in Seoul; could I join the team there."

"Did he?" Denny's voice darkening.

"Yes, he did. And do you know what he told me your reply was?"

"I couldn't possibly know what he told you."

"I'm sure if you wracked that scary little brain of yours, you might have an inkling. But just in case you've recently received a sharp blow to the head and are suffering from memory loss, let me remind you. He said that you—and I quote—very emphatically stated I wasn't going anywhere."

Denny stared hard at her, his anger matching her own. There were several moments of silence before he spoke. "What are you telling me? You want to go to Seoul? You want to leave?"

"I will tell you what I don't want. I don't want to have worked as hard as I have worked to gain all the options possible, only to have the freedom to choose whichever one I want taken from me simply because I'm in a relationship," the last word sounding dirty. "Because, let's face it," she said through clenched teeth, her eyes becoming almost cruel, "if I was forced to choose between my career and a relationship, I would go with the sure bet."

Denny was out of his chair stalking to her rapidly. "And what does that mean?" he growled.

"You know damn well what it means," she hissed, looking up at him as he came to stop a breath away from her. "You made that decision because you're jealous. If I can't sleep with you for the purpose of moving up in the world, it sure as hell better not drag me down. I've worked too hard for opportunities like this just to have you unilaterally deny them to me because you're selfish!"

"Worked hard or flirted hard?" he accused.

Alessa's mouth tightened. "That is unfair. You already know I don't want to sleep my way to the top. And while you may think I have sex appeal, I sure as hell don't try to use it, and you know that."

Denny stared down at her, his jaw clenching. But as she glared up at him, she saw him eventually soften. He let out a frustrated growl, and raked his fingers through his hair as he turned away from her to stalk to his window. He knew she was right. He had responded to Hyun-Joong's interest like a kid who didn't want to share, possessive and thoughtless of anyone but himself. And that behavior had forced her to do the very thing he feared, choose her career over him. The irony was not lost on him, and had he not been upset, he might have smiled.

At length, when he felt in control of his ire, he turned back toward her and leaned against the window sill, crossing his arms. "I suppose an apology is due."

She took an irritated stance and cocked an eyebrow. "One would think for as much time as you waste on apologizing you would learn to circumvent the need by not acting like an ass," she bit out.

Denny's jaw clenched, but he kept his annoyance in check. He nodded once. "You are probably correct." After another moment of glaring at one another, he sighed and walked to her. As he reached for her, she stiffened but didn't move away. Her eyes were wary as she peered up at him.

"Well?" she prompted, uncomfortable with his scrutiny.

"While it is my decision who works with my clients," he said meaningful, reminding her that he would have a say in her involvement in Hyun-Joong Park's company simply because he was Denny's client, "I made my decision primarily to keep you here. For myself. I will endeavor to not let my personal feelings for you influence my decisions as your supervisor in the future. 

"Now, if after a year you are still interested in a different placement, such as at the Seoul office, we can discuss that, but for the time, it would be best for your career—and not just because it's what I want—if you stayed here at the head office. You may be talented, but you're also young and lack experience that you could gain here. Alright?"

Though his answer was reasonable, she still felt miffed and a little uneasy about the amount of control he had over professional life. Denny must have sensed the mistrust because he devised a plan to ameliorate her wariness. "Listen, if you don't have too much on your plate, I actually was handed a new case this morning. I was going to pass it off to Jeff, but if it would help mend our professional relationship, then I can let you take it." He watched her eyes slowly light up. "It's a straightforward defense for a wrongful eviction suit. What do you say?" he offered.

Alessa felt giddy inside, but kept her straining emotions masked. "Would I have to appear in court?"

The corner of his mouth twitched up, but he suppressed the smile. "I doubt it. You can meet with the client and see if they want to settle out of court or pursue a defense. But these things rarely make it to court."

She was slowly coming around. "Very well," she accepted almost begrudgingly, "I'll take it." But then her eyes narrowed. "But don't think you can buy me off with a small little case every time you muck up," she warned.

He finally smiled fully. "Don't worry, I don't plan on making too many mistakes." And then before she could react, he leaned down and kissed her. She quickly pulled away and looked about, despite the fact they were in the closed office alone. 

"You shouldn't do that," she whispered. When he only smiled and raised an eyebrow, she explained. "For one, someone could walk in and two, I'm still angry with you."

Denny reached out and pulled her close, taking her by the hands and wrapping them around the small of her back to hold her in place. "Sweetheart," he began as his lips drifted closer, "you have to forgive people when they screw up. You can't go around holding grudges. Not only is it bad for a relationship, it's bad for you. You'll be miserable and unhappy until you forgive my stupid ass," he instructed before finally kissing her.

For a moment, Alessa allowed him to kiss her, the pleasure of his mouth nothing she could deny, but when she pulled away and looked up into his eyes she was glaring. "Stop telling me how to feel," she demanded.

"I'm only sharing my experience," he sighed, slowly letting her body go. "Trust me; holding onto your anger only hurts yourself." 

She still eyed him with annoyance, but something in her expression softened slightly. "I'll think about it."

Denny seemed satisfied enough, understanding nothing with Alessa came immediately, but with time and thought and care.

He informed her she could pick up the case file from Clare when she left. She paused before departing, however. "Thank you, I suppose, for the case, I mean."

"Of course. I know you will do an excellent job." And then he turned to go back to his desk, silently dismissing her.

Alessa left his office shouldering not only her irritation with him, but the excitement of a new case. Clare handed off the file to her and she quickly read through the pertinent information at her desk. After calling the client and arranging a time for him to come to the office to meet, she turned her buzzing mind back to the other assignments that were always waiting to be completed.

Her evening run was exactly what she needed, as she had opted to head out to the fort and back instead of the treadmill. And as the acid burned her muscles, which she had neglected in favor of time with Denny, she breathed out all the toxic emotions that had been slowly encroaching on the edge of her brain.

She didn't see him for the remainder of the day, but as she slunk into bed at midnight, her phone buzzed with a text. 

Sorry again about today. Promise to behave better in the future.

At first she was tempted to ignore it, but he was right; the negative feelings she was holding onto only vexed her. 

Promises promises, she teased, though she didn't quite feel playful. When he didn't reply within a minute, she closed her eyes, and felt herself dropping into sleep when her phone buzzed again.

I do promise. See you tomorrow. She read it several times, feeling the solemnity of his words like a handful of heavy stones.

The rest of the week was uneventful as far as their relationship was concerned. Much to her surprising disappointment, she didn't see him much, though he had managed to steal a few kisses in empty hallways. It was just as well, she had sighed standing over the copier, the new case he had given her was not within her comfort zone and she was spending hours on research. The client had decided to fight the lawsuit, claiming he had done nothing outside of the guidelines for building managers. The case seemed to be riddled with drama as he purported the ex-tenant was an unemployed drug user. Through learning of the parties' long history, Alessa gleaned neither party was a mature adult, but resorted to petty tactics and name calling. What had seemed like a straightforward matter was quickly spiraling outside her depth.

Lou had been helpful in pointing her to resources and sharing her limited experiences, but the advice did little to ease her nerves. Thursday afternoon Denny asked if she would spend the night with him Friday. At first she wanted to beg off, feeling not only was she not making satisfactory gain in the new case, but that she was neglecting her sister and her mom. When she tried to make an excuse, he promised not to keep her forever. She agreed contingent upon being able to hang out with her sister on Sunday. Later that afternoon, when the plans were in place for her to pick Octo up for brunch late Sunday morning, she stopped by his office to deliver papers for the Mingo case and to give him the answer he wanted.

He merely looked up at her as if he had devious things running through his mind and smiled. "Good. Dinner out?"

But her uneasy expression silently stated she still wasn't comfortable being in public with a boyfriend, let alone her boss. 

"Then we can get it to go," he compromised.

"Or order it in for here? I have a feeling if I'm going to be wasting time with you this weekend I need to work as long as I can on Friday," she stated.

"Wasting time?" he repeated in mock offense.

She rolled her eyes. "Spending time, you know what I mean," she struggled to recover.

"I know what Freud would think," he stated drily. 

She lifted her hands in exasperation. "You can interpret my words however you want. That doesn't change the fact that I probably should work late Friday if I'm not going to be able to make it into the office Saturday because I'll be with you."

He smiled. "Fine. We can order in. I suppose it wouldn't hurt for me to get a little more work out of the way." He looked up at her with that hungry glint. "After all, I'll be far too busy doing other delightful things once I get you in my clutches."

Alessa gave an uncomfortable chortle at that. "That sounds rather ominous," but she couldn't stop the slight blushing spreading over her cheeks at the thought of what delightful, ominous things he had in mind.

"Only in the best of ways."

She contained her smile, but only barely. "Right. Well, I suppose I should to get back to work." Denny only nodded with a smirk, watching her as she scurried from his office.

Friday evening, he was in the middle of drafting a licensing agreement for one of Silicon Valley's latest technology start-ups when a knock on his door drew his attention. Alessa was back from her run, her hair now up in a ponytail, though she had put back on her light-gray pencil skirt and cream blouse.

Denny smiled as she approached, basking in her lovely appearance. He then noticed she had a largish paper sack in one hand and manila folders in the other. "Whatchya got there?" he asked, sitting up and placing his elbows on the desk.

"Well, I know you said you wanted to order out, but I've really been craving my grandmother's butternut squash soup. So I made us some," she explained, removing the various containers storing the hand crafted goodness. "I also made these crescent squares stuffed with cheese to go with them," she added, handing him his. "Careful, I just heated it up; it might be a little hot."

Denny simply smiled at the thoughtful gesture and watched as she set it all out before them. The aroma from the soup was rich and earthy with a touch of sweetness. He also thought he smelled rosemary, but wasn't sure. Once she had sat down, he took a tentative bite, heeding the warning of the dangerous temperature. But it was just right, he thought, slurping it up. He had been correct; he could just taste a hint of rosemary.

"Alessa, this is delicious," he murmured, taking in spoonfuls.

She had a bashful smile and gave a shrug. "Well, I can't really take credit for it. It was my grandmother's recipe. I just followed it."

He smiled as he watched her eat. "To the T, I bet."

She looked up and then smiled ruefully but held her tongue. As they ate in silence, they each continued on with their respective work, pauses as they shared smiles whenever Denny moaned in delight at the food. At some point, he heard her sigh in exasperation and looked up to see her scowling over the papers on her lap.

"Something the matter?"

She only squinted her eyes and frowned as she shook her head. 

Denny watched her continue on in her displeasure with whatever she was reading, and when ten-thirty came and went, he declared their workweek over.

"But I-"

"Shouldn't argue with your boss," he interjected, closing his laptop and standing up. "Whatever you're working on can wait until at least Sunday afternoon, and that's if you have to work on it at all over the weekend. Now, let's get your things and go. I have something waiting for you back at my place."

She looked up at that to find his sharp eyes glinting at her. She held a mildly skeptical expression. "I don't know, it's not another video game console is it?"

He barked out a laugh at that. "No, nothing so wholesome."

She bit back a smile. "Video games? Wholesome?"

"In comparison to the gift I have for you, yeah, I'd say wholesome. Innocent. Banal. Platonic. Harmless."

She swallowed. "Really. And just what is this little gift you have for me?"

Denny kept his wolfish smile subdued. "You'll just have to unwrap it to find out."

Alessa felt a breathy laugh escape her chest, but not quite make it past her lips. "How can I possibly say no to that?" she murmured holding his gaze a second longer than she thought possible as she struggled to keep the blush off her cheeks. If Denny knew of her inner turmoil, he said nothing, but ushered them out of the office and into his car. The drive to his home was quiet, if a little fast, and Alessa was internalizing his silence when he opened the door to his condo and let her in.

Before she was able to take two steps, he had grabbed her in the dimmed entryway and pinned her to the wall. Alessa let out a gasp of surprise, and for the briefest of moments, fear shot up her spine. But the intensity of his eyes had nothing to do with mortal danger, and everything to do with devastating desire. Her breathing hitched as he held her there, almost suspended, his body slowly pressing into hers. 

"You have no idea how badly I want to destroy you with pleasure," he growled as held her face, turning it to take in the beautiful lines of her face and neck. "How many times I think about you naked. Bent over my desk, or on your knees with your hands tied behind your back," he continued to harshly whisper. 

The dark and dangerous images he painted in her mind caused a shiver to run down her spine only to pool in her loins.

"No fucking idea how many times I ache during the day." He skimmed the sensitive skin of her neck as he pressed his heavy erection into her. "And all because of you. I can't seem to think straight when I'm not touching you," he confessed, his harsh breathing heating her skin. And then he turned his face to hers and claimed her mouth for a fierce kiss that stole her breath away. 

Alessa was quivering with the thick and heady desire coursing through her veins. His words enlivened her, stoking her need for him. Arms held her tightly to him as though he were a buoy to keep her afloat in a tempestuous sea. Denny aggressively slid his hand down her hip and hiked her leg up as he insinuated his own hard thigh between her legs. She moaned into his mouth as he ground against her. For several minutes he plundered her over and over, elevating her passion higher and higher until she was ready for him to enter her and finish her. 

His mouth tore from hers, his head falling past her own to lean against the wall behind her. Denny's harsh breath stirred the wisps of hair at the nape of her neck. His hand still cupped the side of her neck, and feeling a pulse of desire push through her, she undulated her body against him. "Why'd you stop?" she gasped as her hands dug harder into flesh.

Denny's eyes were closed tight as he continued to cage his passion to allow him to focus on his objective. "Because, Sweetheart, as much as I want to fuck you against the wall right here and now, I have something special planned for you tonight." And then he placed a chaste kiss against the beating pulse of her neck. As he pulled away, he took her by the hand. "Come on. I think I need some wine. You?"




Trivial Pursuits Ch. 16



Alessa took a deep breath as she followed behind. Perhaps alcohol would help to cut the acute, sharp pain of her sex and soothe the disquiet in her brain. The light above the stove was on and provided a soft, glowing illumination to work by. As Denny hadn't turned on any other lights, they stood in the relative dark, with only sound of a wine cork popping and the liquid filling a glass and then another. Without ceremony, he handed her one while he took his and drank. 

When Alessa paused in between sips, Denny reached out and cupped her cheek, looking over her face adoringly. He kissed her again, but with less of the heated passion, though she could feel his lips quiver with restrained longing. It was an effort to not be swept away too quickly, to not kiss him back with the aching fervor she felt expanding in her gut. But the knowledge that more was to come, that the unknown was to happen, was enough to give her strength to resist the pull.

"How was your run?" Denny asked off-subject when they had disengaged again.

"Well, I didn't have a running partner to rescue from self-induced cramps, so relatively uneventful," she replied with a ghost of a smirk on her lips as she lifted her glass for another sip.

Denny gave a grunt to that. When they had both seemed to have sufficiently cooled off, Denny assessed her squarely. "Ready?"

She held a wary expression. "For what exactly?"

"Your gift."

Alessa bit her thumb nail. "And what is this gift exactly?"

He gave her a warm, half-smile. "Like I said, you have to open it to find out."

She let out a shaky sigh. "Fine. Let's have it."

His smile only grew more devilish.

"What?"

"It's in the bedroom."

Alessa sucked in her breath. Deeply. Slowly. And for several seconds didn't let it out. Her mind was racing to every sexual toy she could think of. She hoped it wasn't some sort of anal plug. She didn't think she could go through that. It seemed unlike he would want to give her a vibrator as he should be using his own impressive erection for that. Then again, unless he planned on sticking it in another hole. There were always the thrilling possibilities of hand cuffs or masks. Maybe even hot wax. She had always wanted to try a little pain. 

Denny watched fascinated as her facial features displayed ever thought racing through her mind. He saw trepidation, and disgust, cautious interest, and even flashing lust. He wondered exactly what she was thinking.

"Come on, Sweetheart," he urged again, placing his hand at her back.

They shuffled through the dark living room and down the hallway to his bedroom. She felt him guide her to stand at one point in the room while he left her to switch on lights. To her surprise, she heard the click of a lighter and saw the small flame as he lifted it to a large white candle. Once ignited, he moved on to another and another until there was enough illumination to clearly see him, herself, and the large, seemingly flat object leaning against the wall. It stood over six feet and was robed in a black cloth and tied with a giant red bow. It felt sinister. And alluring.

Her eyes slid to him as he stood watching her. "Well, what is it?"

"Like I said. Unwrap it."

She took a tentative step forward, and then another until she could reach out a hand. The red material was satiny, heavy and thick and glossy. She gave a light tug, and then pulled harder until the length slipped free of its own twisted knot and fell gracefully to the floor. She reached out for the black material next and pulled until it too slinked off the large object. 

Alessa blinked as she looked back at her own reflection, perfectly illuminated by the dancing flames of the several lit candles. At first, she didn't understand. It was a large, impressive mirror, possibly six and a half feet tall and three or four feet wide. It was beveled and had a sturdy, simple black frame. She cocked her eyebrow and looked at him unimpressed.

"A mirror?" she asked. What sinister thing did he have planned for the mirror? Or had his hints been misunderstood, and he had no black intentions in the gift. Was it a simple present, or was there something more.

"How do you like it?" he asked, coming to stand behind her, his eyes trained on her exposed neck.

"It's a nice mirror?" she supplied, not knowing what he expected.

His lips were softly curved in a small smile. "And do you like what you see?" he further prodded.

"I guess. I mean, it's just a mirror," she answered with a frown, still not understanding his point.

"Not the mirror, Sweetheart. What's in the mirror."

She was silent a moment as she scanned it, looking for what he was talking about. And then her eyes fell to her own, and she looked at the tall, dark figure behind her. "You mean myself?" She sighed. "Denny, is this your way of telling me you think I'm beautiful? We've already established that you're attracted to me. Can we move on? I don't need a giant mirror to look at myself." She sounded exasperated, and she was about to turn around, shut it out when his hands reached out to stop her, forcing her to continue staring at herself.

His eyes finally lifted to her reflected ones. "Yes, we have established that I'm attracted to you. But what I don't think you get is how just looking at you is erotic. All of you. Every inch of naked flesh is sensual and erotic and beautiful." He felt her squirm in his hands as he mentioned naked flesh. "If you truly understand what you do to me, what just looking at you does to me, you'd be petitioning city hall to have the freedom to walk around nude everywhere. Instead, you can't seem to stay out of your clothes for more than a few minutes, and as soon as my eyes are closed, you've slipped them back on." His accusation was clear and somber.

She scowled. "So what? I'm not allowed to wear pajamas? Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I'm cold? Maybe my skin is sensitive and your sheets are scratchy. Maybe after sex you're all sweaty and that feels disgusting to sleep against. Maybe I just don't want to be that intimate," she defended.

He leveled his gaze at her. "I thought we'd gotten past your lying."

She was silent as she scowled at him, her lips pursed and her brow drawn down in irritation.

"Who said I'm lying?"

"If we're sweating, you're not cold. My sheets are top of the line, smooth as a baby's bottom. Not scratchy. And how is laying naked next to someone more intimate than having sex with them? Face it. You have a problem being naked when there is no reason for it."

"Dammit, Denny. There's always a reason for everything," she nearly shouted in frustration.

He was silent as he studied her. Angry, Alessa simply shifted her terse gaze elsewhere, not able to meet his intense scrutiny. After a short time of tense silence, he spoke. "What other reasons are there?"

She simply gave a fuming shake of her head, refusing to answer.

"Alessa," he warned, now certain he was onto something. "What other reasons are there?"

She huffed out. "I just don't like people looking at me. Naked. Okay?" she answered still not looking at him.

Denny narrowed his eyes. "Who else would be looking?" he asked confused without thought.

He saw her mouth screw tighter, but it was the slight change in the slant of her eyes that began his brain to thinking. To remembering. It was a look of hateful shame, of embarrassment and hurt and all things unforgettable.

"Your stepdad," he whispered, a thousand tons falling on his shoulder, digging into his heart. He knew he was right the instant he saw her draw up, her crossed arms tightening around her. She still looked off to the right, still unable to meet his gaze. But he knew he was correct. He knew he had dug out the thorn of her history that caused such lasting scars.

"Oh, Sweetheart," he groaned, aching to pull her close. But her body language indicated she wouldn't welcome his touch. "Fuck, Sweetheart, that's so messed up. You're so messed up."

That drew her livid eyes. She was defensive; it wasn't her fault. After all, she'd gotten by the best she could, protected herself as needed. What had she said? She dressed in the dark? Scoured her bathroom whenever she took a shower, looking for a hidden camera? A life built around protecting her nudity.

"You have no right to tell me what I'm doing is wrong, how I feel about something is messed up. I don't have to take this. I don't need you to judge me." The fat tears sprang up in her eyes even as her mouth held an angry line. She took a step away from him as if to leave, but before she could take a second, Denny had reached out and grabbed her, twisting her around to crush her to his chest. Her hands were between them, pushing against his embrace.

"Fuck, Sweetheart, you are messed up. And who wouldn't be?" he whispered gruffly into her hair with angry emotion coating his voice. "It's so wrong, so wrong what happened to you. And you're right, you don't need my judgment. But that's not what this is. Me seeing how you've been hurt, understanding why you carry this baggage and wanting to help you unload it, that's not judgment, Sweetheart, that's friendship. It's what we do when we care for each other; we share our burdens."

He felt her finally soften against him, melt as the strength of her anger dissipated. As her shoulders began to shake, her hands grasped and knotted in his shirt, pulling herself tighter into him. He merely stood there, holding her as she cried old pain away. 

Denton gently rocked her to and fro until the furor of her torment seemed to settle, her body once more simply lax against him. He pulled away slightly in order to cup her wet cheeks and draw her gaze up to his. His thumbs mindlessly stroked the wetness away as he stared at her, her eyes blue pools, shining and bottomless.

"Sweetheart, what happened to you was wrong. And at the time, your only recourse was to hide, to protect yourself. I understand that. But that isn't your reality any-more. You're a grown woman, in a relationship. Safe. And the gaze of your lover on you is a good thing, something to embrace, and if at all possible, to use in your favor," he said with a soft, teasing smile. "And just as you learned to hide, you have to learn to be free, to embrace the good possibilities."

Alessa's brow was drawn as she held back the discomfort and attempted to assess his words for the truth they held. She didn't want to be afraid, she admitted. She didn't want to be ashamed or scared or nauseated. She wanted the freedom she knew was normal, but was so frightened of doing as he suggested to find it.

She drew in a shaking, cleansing breath. "Okay," she whispered, looking from his lips to his eyes, needing some sort of strength to carry her through.

His smile was heartbreaking, and for a flashing second she felt safe, felt as if she were home. He kissed her then, tender but sensual, full of breath and tongue and gentle nips on her lips. When Alessa seemed to warm back up, Denny instructed her to turn and face the mirror again.

Slowly, with some amount of trepidation, she turned in the glow of candles to face her broken, persevering form. For a moment, Denny let her quietly assess herself, not speaking as her eyes looked over the features of her face, now blotchy and red, the length of her neck, the outline of her body in her clothes, the shape of her calves and point of her feet. Unhurriedly, her eyes drifted back up to meet his staring intently at her.

"What did you have in mind?" she asked with a warmth and quiver to her voice. She waited with a nervous stomach for his answer.

"I want you to remove your clothes," he instructed solemnly without further explanation. 

She knew that was what he was going to say, knew the purpose of the stupid mirror, and yet, it felt like a shocking splash of acid through her stomach to actually hear the words. She swallowed and then slowly lifted trembling fingers to the buttons at the collar of her cream blouse. With aching deliberateness, her fingers began to undo them one by one, the edges of her shirt slowly falling open to reveal her beige bra beneath. She reached the bottom, which was tucked into her skirt. Pulling it out, she undid the last three buttons, and then looking him in the eyes, she let the shirt fall free from her arms. Her skirt was next, falling around her ankles and then kicked off to the side.

For a moment she thought she was going to be sick as she witnessed his intense scrutiny of her every action. When his eyes met hers, she felt the gentle encouragement to carry on, to remove the last pieces. Her hands slide down her thighs to snag on the edge of first one thigh-high stocking and then the other, taking them off while balancing on the opposite foot. And then she stood staring at herself again.

Denny could see her beginning to freeze, the panic setting in. He lifted an affectionate finger to stroke the flesh along her spine. Her stomach quivered at the contact, parts of her melting while other parts reared in protest. But she stayed unmoving until she allowed the comfort provided by that soothing finger to settle deep and calm her nerves. She reached back, her eyes now focused on Denny's, and unclasped her bra. It was slow in coming off, but eventually it slid free and was tossed carelessly to the floor.

Denny wanted nothing more than to explore every inch of her exposed, smooth flesh with his lips, to rub them along the feminine curves now perfectly on display. But he held fast, motionless as he waited for the last divestment of her clothing. 

Alessa was fast melting under the fire of his fixed stare, a kindling of desire despite the coexisting discomfort that was engrained from years of shielding herself. She closed her eyes, closed herself off, for just a moment, just a second in time to gather to her the last remaining courage left floating inside. With a deep, centering breath she opened her eyes, though they looked down her body and not at him, and slowly slipped her thumb in the band of her panties and began tugging them down.

They were off, and she was naked, standing bare before him. Somehow, even in the dim and warmly lit room, she felt more exposed than ever before.

"Sweetheart," Denny purred, watching the fast rising of her chest. Her eyes finally drifted up to his, apprehension in them, but also a seeking for something to trust, something to cling to and believe in.

Holding her gaze, he brought his finger back up to slowly trace the curves of her back, drawing lazy, abstract patterns, feeling her rib cage expand beneath his exploring fingers. Eventually, his hand trailed around her side, coursing over her hip bone and over the planes of her stomach, down to the top of her sensitive groin and up and around the curve of her breast. Her breathing was more rapid and her eyes fluttered as she watched his eyes watch his hand. She could feel her body sway back, feel the tickling whisper of his dress shirt graze the skin of her back. 

Dissolving as she was, Denny leaned forward to run slow and reverent kisses along her neck. She leaned her head to the side, offering him greater access. When her body slowly fell against him, the arm that held her up continued its caresses while Denny's other hand stroked the sensitive skin of her neck and shoulder. Alessa had no thought to stop the groan of pleasure that slipped past her parted lips.

And then he was gone. Alessa opened her eyes as she felt her support leave her, stumbling back a step before looking behind her. Unconsciously, her arms covered her body as she gazed out into the dark of the room that the light of the candles could not reach. She could see him barely as he seemed to pick up something large and walk back to her. She stepped out of the way as he silently maneuvered her over in order to set the long, large bench down directly in front of the mirror. Her lust-coated mind was slow to grasp the implications of his actions until he stood and held a hand out to her, inviting her to take it.

When she did, Denny guided her to step a leg over the bench so she straddled it, facing the mirror. At first, Alessa twisted herself about as if to escape, but Denny was behind her immediately, his hands on her hips holding in her place.

"Ah-ah-ah, Sweetheart, we're not finished. Not by a long shot," he murmured as he prompted her to sit down on the bench with her thighs splayed to either side. Her hands immediately dropped to cover her groin as he settled fully clothed behind her. "There," he said, almost casually, a darkness in his voice that warmed her despite her unease. For a moment, they sat, staring at each other's reflections, one silently prompting the other, while the other warily watched the first.

"Look at yourself, Sweetheart," he coaxed gruffly, but tenderly. "Look at how beautiful you are."

With a small amount of reluctance, Alessa turned her eyes to herself, staring at her face and silently wondering what she had gotten herself into, wondering if she was insane or finally discovering what she had always wanted. And then she allowed her eyes to drift down her body, once again taking in her form, now completely nude. She took in the line of collar bones, the slight ridges of her sternum and then the firm slopes of her average breasts. She watched as her ribs expanded and contracted with each tormented breath she took. She followed the length of her arms until they joined at the apex of her thighs, covering her hidden, but certainly aching sex. 

As she stared at the hidden mystery there, she felt Denny's fingers glide gently down her arms to lace his fingers with hers. Though she knew it was happening, she couldn't quite keep his hands from separating hers, pulling them apart. The moment her flesh was revealed beneath, she quickly turned her face away, casting her eyes off into the dark. He laid their joined hands on either of her thighs.

Now fully exposed, she could feel air invade and brush against her wet folds. She drew in a sharp, tormented breath.

"Alessa," he murmured. She only screwed her eyes shut and gave a small, denying shake of her head. "Sweetheart," he continued to entreat, "look. Open your eyes and look."

There were several more deep and shaky breaths before her eyes cracked open and then slowly, begrudgingly, she turned her head until she met his eyes. "Look," he whispered once more.

He could feel her strained breath and then watched her eyes part from his and trail down her body, taking in the fullness of her sex, the completeness of her femininity. He watched her brow draw down and her lips part with a small snarling curl. She swallowed, and as she continued to study the folds of delicate skin, her features slowly changed from subdued disgust to guarded interest. 

Denny watched the appealing blush on her skin slowly deepen and spread down her chest, covering her in sensual rosiness. Her breath was evening out, and though apprehension still shaped the corners of her eyes, he could sense the slowly burgeoning appreciation for the erotic vision she created. 

At length, her eyes flicked back up to his. "Okay, so I've looked. Now what?" He could tell she attempted to cover her desire with an acerbic tone, and so only returned her sardonic words with a wolfish grin.

"Now, my Sweetheart, you are going to watch while I make you come." His words had the desired effect, causing her to take a deep breath in.

He released the hands that were still intertwined with his own and brushed his palms up her arms, one hand slowly encircling a breast, the other falling back down to ghost over her parted sex. The sensation was light, almost tickling, but it caused an ache that demanded a firmer touch. Alessa held back the movement of her pelvis, closing her eyes to avoid watching the intensely erotic site of Denny's hand snaking down her body. 





Trivial Pursuits Ch. 16



"No, Sweetheart, you have to watch. That's the whole point of the mirror. You have to watch," he husked in her ear. She swallowed and braved opening an eye, and then the other. She confined herself to watch his hand pluck and tease the tissue of her breast, not daring to venture farther down to where his fingers lightly played in her. She already knew how wet she was, could hear the mild wet sounds as he sluiced his way through, and was too mortified to witness her body being plundered.

"That's good, Sweetheart," he continued to croon in her ear, "but your chest isn't the only part of you to watch," he encouraged. "Look," he whispered. "Watch me spread you. Look at how your sweet color changes. How wet you are. Watch me as I enter you," he growled darkly.

Alessa moaned, afflicted with desire and embarrassment. Her breathing sped up as her eyes swayed to his will and locked onto his hand opening her lewdly for her viewing pleasure. She twisted in discomfort, but she forced out a determined breath and continued to watch, refusing to be kowtowed by fear.

She was biting her lip, repeatedly pulling it in to run her tongue over it. She moaned when Denny hit a particularly sensitive spot and did nothing to stop the jerk of her hips straining up for more of his touch.

"That's my girl," he praised, his own throbbing body pressed against her firm bottom as his hand stroked her deeper and deeper. Alessa whimpered as she felt the familiar delicious ache of his two fingers penetrating and stretching her swollen body. She angled her hips further forward so he had an improved angle with which to enter her.

Alessa let out an agonized moan when he finally strummed the pleasure center on the behind her pubic bone, her eyes fluttering shut momentarily. Her hands had moved to his thighs, and as he intensified the pleasure higher and higher, her nails dug deeper and deeper. She had fallen back fully against him, and though he had intended for her to watch him finger her, he didn't dare deny her when she angled her face up to him for a kiss. With tongue and teeth and fervor, he mated his mouth against hers, growling at the sharp pain of her nails and the responding ache of his groin. 

When he was ready for her to orgasm by his hand, he pulled his mouth away and instructed her to watch. Alessa needed more, more contact, more force, more security, and so lifted an arm to wrap around his neck as she turned her slumberous gaze to their joined reflection and watched him stroke her with more determined focus. 

A whimper of desperation escaped her lips as the pleasure began to build beyond her ability to control, and suddenly, her body was its slave, as though it were a tangible entity possessing her. 

"Come, Sweetheart, come on my fingers," he husked against her ear.

When she lifted her eyes to his, the hunger she witnessed sparkling there stripped her of the last of her control, hurling her headlong into incredible pleasure. Alessa began moaning continuously, as she felt the powerful climax begin to ripple through her, taking over every other sensation. She cried out his name over and over as he continued working his fingers in and out. 

Denny felt his own passion grow as her tight sheath rhythmically crushed his fingers and her torso contracted in climax. Though his mouth watered for her lips and his body ached to press against her, he couldn't tear his eyes from the erotic scene before him. He watched greedily, unashamedly. Her body, bathed in the golden light, now damp with sweat and flushed with fever was a sensual feast for the eyes, and he wanted to drink her in, memorize every last detail of her.

It took some moments before she relaxed against him, and several more for any degree of her consciousness to surface. When she finally began to stir, open her eyes and attempt to make sense of the world about her, he watched her closely, like a wolf eyeing its prey. He waited for her panic, for her discomfort to return, for her to shift and pull away, but what he saw was entirely unexpected.

Her countenance was open, allowing his eyes to rove over her at his leisure. He could sense the edge of her apprehension, but she didn't embrace it, didn't allow it to consume her, but forced herself to lay against him, unmoving, unconcerned. 

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, staring in her eyes. "Like some sort of mythical goddess no mortal man deserves," he reflected thoughtfully.

"Then consider yourself lucky," she responded with half-hooded eyes, somehow emboldened by her orgasm, by the enraptured stare of her partner. Somehow, somewhere in the stripping of her clothes, in the gifted orgasm, she felt all the awkwardness she harbored evaporate, something bold and ravenous replacing it.

Though her left arm still wrapped about his neck, she arched her back so her left could snake a hand behind her. When her hand clasped the hardened bulge in his pants, Denny gave a pained groan. 

"Sweetheart, maybe you shouldn't play with that. Not unless you can do something for it." He felt something tight coil in his loins as he watched her smirk.

"Oh, I'm sure I could do something for it," she purred, giving him another squeeze. He hissed out an expletive, before dropping his forehead to the back of her head.

"Yeah? Like what?"

Alessa felt the sore and satisfied parts of her body spark with renewed longing at the rough sound of his voice. "Mm, I'm sure I could come up with something creative," she demurred, beginning a slow, rhythmic squeezing of his erection.

Denny narrowed his eyes at her as he ignored the impulse to roughly turn her around and sink himself into. "Really? Such as?"

Alessa took a slow breath, still feigning confidence she felt slowly slipping, and slid her body from the bench, holding his gaze in the mirror as she went. She turned around once on her knees and looked up at him. Denny cocked an eyebrow at her, unbelieving what her actions were suggesting. When he didn't move, she said, "Well?" daring him to make the next move.

Eyeing her speculatively, he slowly scooted forward until he was near the front of the bench where she knelt. "You know," she began with a throaty voice that made him throb all the more, "I should warn you that I've never done this before." She began running her hands deliberately up the length of his legs and then his hard thighs.

"Is that so? And exactly what have you never done before?"

Her hands had reached the fastener of his suit pants. She looked up from their busy actions to release him. He looked so devastatingly desirable, with his white shirt and black suspenders and eyes that smoldered like hot embers. "Put a man in my mouth," she explained in a breathy voice, feeling flushed at the eroticism of her statement.

"Is that so?" he asked slowly, unable to stop his hand from reaching out to push the strand of hair fallen from her ponytail. His eyes closed only a moment when she finally undid his pants and pulled his hard length out. Opening them again, he decisively pulled the hairband from her hair, causing brunette waves to tumble free. 

Alessa appeared momentarily caught off guard by the action, but when she met his daring gaze she continued on with her plan, turning her focus to the straining flesh before her. Tentatively, she began moving her hand up and down, reacquainting herself with his contours. She hadn't found her own sex to be anything beautiful or alluring, even if it was compelling, but there was something decidedly pleasing about the sight of his shaft, hard and alive in her grip that made her mouth absolutely water. 

Denny watched through slitted eyes as she explored him before beginning a focused effort to bring about his own release. Her hand had slipped down to the base of his shaft to cup his heavy sack. He groaned in pleasure, and when she looked up startled by the noise, he reached out to run his fingers through the loosened hair. Her eyes fluttered at the feeling of his nails against her scalp, momentarily distracting her, but when she felt the slightest pressure at the back of her head, she focused on his face. 

She gave a half smile. "Something you were looking for?" she teased.

He chuckled gruffly. "I think you know exactly what I'm looking for," he replied. 

"Oh?" she asked, stroking him lightly.

"Something about your mouth and my dick?"

She bit her bottom lip, surpassing a smile. "Did I say that? As I recall, I only mentioned in passing that I had never done something like that," she replied coyly.

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Then let's changed that, why don't we?"

She gave him a daring look, but capitulation flashed across her eyes. As she turned her gaze back to the work of her hands, she assessed the best approach.

"Just try licking it," he suggested softly, catching her dilemma. Her eyes flickered up to his, but then looked back down. 

But where? she wondered. Hesitantly, she leaned forward, and Denny watched in rapture as her pink tongue slowly slid forward to sweep up the underside of his erection. He let out a groan of approval, urging her to repeat it. Alessa gradually became comfortable with stroking his thickness with her tongue, slowly, quickly, up and down, around the smooth head. She quickly became accustomed to the strong, musky flavor, the heady scent that was all male. 

The introduction to actually placing him in her mouth came slowly, beginning with slow, worshipful kisses that morphed with the addition of her stroking tongue until he was finally slipping in and out of her lips. 

Denny thought he would burst into flames from the heat of her mouth. Though he was making low, growling sounds from the acute throb her gentle licking and sucking produced, she didn't seem distracted as she found a rhythm of slowly taking him into her mouth as deeply as she could and pulling away with an intense suckle. One hand still cupped his sac while the other helped her mouth, stroking firmly up and down.

When Denny knew he was at the end, though he longed to come in her mouth, he didn't think she was quite ready for that, and he wasn't about to push her any further than she could go, pulled her up and away, his erection popping from her mouth.

"What—"

But his mouth cut her off as he tilted her face up to his. Though her hands didn't leave his hard organ, he pulled her up to him, helping her straddle him. Quickly, she adjusted her hips and angled him toward her opening. Her head fell forward to the join of his neck as he slowly penetrated her.

Denny's hands held her hips, supporting her as she slowly slid down his shaft until she was sitting on his lap, her legs dangling over the side of the bench. When Alessa had adjusted to the deliciously aching stretch of his length filling her, she lifted her head, her lips grazing his jaw before brushing past his mouth. She pulled away enough so she could look into his eyes, silently telling him she was ready.

As she was without leverage, no placement for her feet to lift her body, Denny shouldered the brunt of the work. Cradling her round bottom in his hands he began to lift her up and let her down. Alessa's arms were wrapped around his neck, and though she felt a frisson of nerves in her stomach, she held his gaze as he moved her on his erection.

As she watched his pained expression, she couldn't help but ask, "Why didn't you come in my mouth?"

"Fuck," he hissed, the eroticism of her words tightening his scrotum until he felt as if he could come right then. Her face was so earnest, despite the marring of pleasure that distorted her features. "Because," he huffed out, pulling her body into him faster, "I didn't want to assume it'd be okay. Especially if you've never done that before, I didn't want you to be grossed out by the experience," he explained between pants.

To his surprise, Alessa leaned forward and attacked his mouth, kissing him fervently. He felt her hips begin to undulate with him, helping him as he drove her onto his rod over and over. She was searching for it, pushing herself to seek her own orgasm, not simply allowing him to give it to her. Together, in fervid movements, they quickly worked themselves to climax, frantically pulling and holding onto the other in clasping desperation. 

Alessa cried out into his mouth, her body paining in exploding euphoria. Denny crushed her to him, forcing her hips back and forth as he rode out his climax, coming deeply inside of her. Together, they panted and groaned, their passion whirling through them as they clung to each other for support.

When his breathing finally slowed, though his heart still raged, Denny gently disengaged their arms, pulling them apart so he could look at her face. "Okay, Sweetheart?"

Her eyes were drowsy and her cheeks were pinked, but a soft smile played at her swollen lips. "Yeah, I think I'm just fine," she murmured back and then leaned forward to kiss him, requesting the comfort of his mouth against hers. After he had obliged and she sagged against him, he whispered that they should slip into bed. There was an awkward moment as she lifted from his lap, his softened shaft slipping free from her soaked core. While she didn't dash from the room, she did calmly walk to the bathroom and shut the door. Denny only chuckled at her proclivities and began undressing, while one by one blowing out the candles until the room was void of light. 

Naked, he crawled beneath the freshly laundered sheets, and waited for her to emerge. When she did, he smiled to find she hadn't slipped on any clothing, but joined him bare as well. She didn't struggle when he slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her to him, his arm cushioned under her head, her bottom nestled against his groin, his slow, contented breath lapping at her neck.

Though unease floated around the edges of her consciousness like flotsam on the tide, she felt pleasure waking up in his arms. His fingers were drawing on her skin again, and with a smile, she turned over to rest her chin on her hands on top of his chest. They smiled and greeted one another with soft words and tender kisses that turned into requests for more. 

Denny made slow love to her as they laid on their sides, their limbs entangled, their bodies lazily undulating against the other. Though he found it required some amount of focused determination, he held out his own orgasm until she had climaxed, and then forced her on her back. Before she could make protests, Denny had lifted her legs back until they touched her chest and bent tightly at her knees. She momentarily made to struggle out of the position until he reared back and sank so deeply into her he hit the end of her tunnel.

She grunted out in strained surprise, and then made no more protest as he began to work quickly in and out of her, pushing her to new limits as he found his own violent release. After they had recovered, he proposed a shower together, and though there was hesitation in her eyes, she agreed.

"Let's go out for breakfast," he suggested, placing a kissing on her bare neck as she wound her damp hair in a messy bun while they stood in front of the bathroom mirror dressing and grooming. She wanted to decline, to stay closed in doors, but she knew that wasn't realistic. Nor was it fair, she sighed, as he had acquiesced to request the evening before to eat in.

"Okay," she answered, "where did you have in mind?" Denny's smile radiated so brightly, Alessa wondered why she would ever have denied him the simple request. He took her to a French-styled bistro less than a ten-minute walk from his building. The Bay was wet and cool that Saturday morning, and so they walked quickly and sat inside by the window. It was surprisingly sparse, and they were discussing the latest book Denny had read when someone approached.

"Denny?" a husky female voice interrupted.

Alessa looked up to find a stunning brunette smile and place a hand on her boyfriend's shoulder. "Max," he beamed, standing up to hug her. Alessa sat stiffly, watching in mute discomfort as the two exchanged familiar greetings.

Denny turned to introduce Max to Alessa, and caught the very guarded, slightly annoyed expression on her lovely face. If he didn't know better, he'd have guessed she was jealous. His smile was cocky.

"Max, this is Alessa, my girlfriend," he intoned with meaning that made her eyes flicker in question to his. But he said nothing but introduce her to Max. "And Alessa, this is Max, one of my closest friends from law school."

She nodded in mild greeting with a forced smile.

"Oh, so you're Alessa," Max said with a Cheshire grin and smooth, velvety voice.

Again, Alessa's eyes flashed to Denny who offered no help, but could only smile like an idiot. "You've heard of me?" she said in somewhat of angered tones.

Max's cocky, half-smile matched Denny's. "Yeah, oodles and oodles." She watched Alessa turn angry eyes to Denny. "Aw, don't blame him, he was a bit in a strop over you," Max explained.

"Max," Denny warned, afraid she'd say something she shouldn't.

"Relax, Denton, I'm not going to embarrass you."

Knowing she spoke the truth, Denny invited her to join them, but looked to Alessa to gauge her reaction. Max followed Denny's eyes and when she met Alessa's eyes, put on the spot as she was, Alessa fumbled with the invitation. 

"Oh, um, yes, if you don't have any other plans, join us." Her mouth was tight though she attempted a smile.

Max decided it was too good to pass up. "Well, I had ordered my food to go, so I guess I can just eat it here." She sat down opposite Alessa. "If you're sure you don't mind."

Alessa appeared to straighten even further. "No, of course not."

"Good." Just then the waiter came over and asked if he could get Max a drink, to which she ordered an Americano. Denny leant back in his chair, very interested to see how the interaction would unfold.

Alessa was certainly unnerved by the grins of her boyfriend and his close friend from law school. Max was unquestionably attractive. Though she shared her own dark hair, her eyes were a chocolate brown that made one feel like pouring themselves into, and where Alessa was tall with thin, almost bony limbs, Max was curvaceous but toned. Her skin was still tan, whether from the sun or from a bed, Alessa couldn't guess, and she sported a kick-ass look with her edgy chin-length haircut and black leather jacket. And her cocky confidence didn't help her ingratiate herself into Alessa's heart.

"So, Max, where do you practice?" Alessa asked, attempting civility.

Max and Denny shared a conspiratorial look. "Well, I have my own practice, so to speak, but I'm not actually a lawyer," Max explained.

"Oh? I thought Denny said you went to law school together."

"Yes, we did."

"So you didn't finish?"

"No, I finished. Graduated top quarter, actually, but before I applied for the bar, I...found another calling."

Alessa raised her eye at that. "Really? And what would that be?"

"Public relations," Denny piped in.

Alessa opened her mouth to speak, but the waiter brought over their food. Once they were all settled in and eating, Max spoke. 

"And tell me about yourself, Alessa."

Alessa swallowed her quiche before she replied, "I'm sorry, I thought Denny had already told you all about me." Her accusation was clear as she cut her annoyed eyes at him.

Denny only smiled broadly as he watched Max return, "Only that he was head-over-heels for a woman from his office that wouldn't give him the time of day." Max smiled as she sat back and thought of his description of her. "Said that you were driven, intelligent. No, I think he said 'intelligent as fuck.'" She smiled at that, and watched Alessa's reaction to all Denny had said about her.

"He compared you to a car, a Bugatti I think. So, from a guy, I suppose we can take that as a compliment. Called you a control freak, said the partners were just itching to get their hands on you. Lauded your academic performance, if not your choice of schools, and mentioned you run nightly as well as eat healthy," she said with a smile, nodding to the sensible selection Alessa had made for her breakfast.




Trivial Pursuits Ch. 16



Max was fascinated to see Alessa's reactions to Denny's description range from mild embarrassment to annoyance to offense. And what was even more intriguing was how Alessa had attempted to hide behind a fixed smile, but her eyes were so expressive, that her thoughts were unmistakable. 

"It sounds as if Denny has done quite a bit of talking," she said tightly, her eyes drifting to him. Irritation flashed in her eyes as he just grinned wider. "I hadn't realized he had such a big mouth," she stated with an empty smile of her own.

"Is that why you like him? Because from what he first told me, you wouldn't give him the time of day. And yet here you are," she mused. "So I wonder."

Alessa turned her blue eyes back to Max. "Wonder what?"

"What made you change your mind?" Max asked bluntly with a curious smile.

Alessa held Max's challenging gaze, not backing down now that she'd been shoved into a corner. She was thoughtful for several moments, so many that Max though she wasn't going to answer. "For all his prattling," Alessa began, "Denny made some observations about me, which I would be lying if I said weren't a little accurate. Despite my reservations about dating...someone from the office, I think, so far," she qualified looking at Denny, "it has been a good experience. Denny has helped me," she paused as she searched for the correct word, "step out of my comfort zone. Explore new things."

Her words were carefully chosen, but Max was quite impressed with her forthright admittance. She was tempted to tease the straight-laced woman, but chose instead a different tact, a few fun ideas for the future popping into her mind. "I'm happy to hear it. There are too many possibilities in life to have it all figured-out and satisfied by the time we're twenty-five, or even thirty," she stated with a grin. "New experiences are always a good thing, in some fashion, so long as you have the wherewithal to accurately judge whether it's for you a second time." 

Alessa was quiet as she assessed Max's claim. Though the woman oozed confidence, Alessa decided she wasn't a threat, at least not to her relationship with Denny. And since they seemed to be such close friends, it would more than likely serve them all well if she attempted some measure of genuine cordiality with her. 

Throughout the rest of the morning, Alessa discovered Max was intelligent and witty, and had something of a bawdy sense of humor, and by the end of the long morning meal, Alessa begrudgingly admitted she wouldn't mind spending more time with Max. Much to her surprise, Max asked her for her phone number as they were parting, to which she awkwardly shared the information. 

As Alessa and Denny strolled back to his apartment, he laced their hands together while they resumed their discussion over the book he had been reading.



Trivial Pursuits Ch. 17



Dear Readers,

Sorry for the long wait, but you can't really rush these things :) I hope you enjoy this next chapter.

I wanted to thank everyone who has voted for this story, because in the month of May, it was voted the highest story on the entire site. And I am super humbled and super excited about that. Thank you all so much for continuous support and all the feedback you take the time to give. It's always appreciated, even if I don't agree with you, even if it isn't always positive, it is always appreciated. So thanks. 

And of course a big thanks to AlreadyTaken for her continued support and editing talent on this project.

Enjoy,

Titania

******

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN





Trivial Pursuits Ch. 17



"Now, no more talk about cancelling our plans for this weekend. It'll be a good break for you," he promised, kissing her once more and then smiling as he pulled away. "And I want you finished tomorrow by five because I have an errand I need you to run. I think it'll help you out, so don't argue with me."

She was a little dazed by the intensity of the sudden kiss and promise of a spanking, wondering if he would really, and if she would enjoy it. "What sort of errand?"

He only smiled teasingly and shook his head. "It's a surprise. Come by my office tomorrow and I'll give you the address. Deal?"

She looked back at her computer screen. "Will it interfere with my run?" she questioned thoughtfully, her mind finally beginning to return to the matter at hand.

"Yeah, probably," he admitted.

She continued studying her screen. "Okay, if you want. Just let me know where," she agreed with some caution as she stepped forward into the world of pliability.

"Thank you," he said appreciatively, reaching for the back of her neck and leaning down to kiss her.

But she didn't allow it to carry on too far, knowing it was beginning to severely distract her from her work, and before she lost her reason, she pulled back and said, "Okay, now I've kissed you, but I have work to finish, so you should probably go."

Denny chuckled, agreeing that if he couldn't take her home with him in the next five minutes, he probably should stop torturing himself. "Fine, Sweetheart. I'll leave you to it. But remember what I said; the case looks damn solid. The other side won't know what hit them." He pecked her once more on the forehead and then left for his office to gather his things and head home.

Alessa had a small smile play across her lips as she looked at the documents once more before shutting the folder. He was proud of her. She was doing well. She turned her attention back to the other cases that had pending tasks for her to complete, deciding a little sacrifice of sleep was in order if she wanted to leave the office tomorrow evening with a light conscience.

She had only five hours of sleep as she rose early Friday morning to get her run in before work. It was just before lunch when she found a break in the pace of her work and went to Denny's office for the address. She was tempted to punch in the address on the GPS and find what was there, but he had actually specifically instructed her to not investigate it. Between the tempting pull to discover ahead of time and the thousand texts Cadence sent in excitement regarding the upcoming weekend, Alessa got very little work done before she left at five.

When she arrived at the address that was just south of Market, she double checked, surprised to see a side door in the stand-alone, two-story brick building with a sign above it. It read "Zone Salon." She entered the building, took the stairs up to the next level and walked into a posh, stylish wood-planked hair salon. She made her way to the receptionist with a funky, jet black hairstyle. 

A little confused as to her purpose there, Alessa gave her name, and to her growing surprise was informed that Sylvy the stylist would be ready to see her in ten minutes. She was offered her beverage of choice before being shown to a dressing room where she was instructed to remove her shirt and don the kimono-style robe. After sitting on the little settee for almost the full ten minutes, a platinum blonde came up to her, introducing herself as her stylist.

Alessa followed her dazedly back to a workstation and sat in the offered chair.

"So, I take it this is a gift," Sylvy began, leaning against her counter smiling expectantly at Alessa.

Alessa's eyebrows were raised in bafflement. "And a surprise," she added, knowing nothing else to say.

Sylvy chuckled. She had a somewhat high-pitched voice that twinkled like fairy wings. "Really? You didn't know you were getting your hair done? That is a nice surprise." She walked behind Alessa, running her fingers assessingly through her hair with a boldness that only a hairstylist possesses when touching a strangers head. "Well, the general plan is just a wash and style, and our washes come with the best neck massages, by the way. But there is allowance for anything you want to do. I guess the payer will cover whatever you want, even including my tip, so you don't have to worry. Were you thinking of getting any highlights or a different cut?" she asked as she changed the shape of Alessa's cut by moving the tresses this way and that.

Alessa was stunned, confused that Denny would send her to get her hair done, not exactly understanding the purpose. In all honesty, she hadn't gotten her hair cut in some time; she had been too busy with work to give much time and consideration to it. She had to admit with a frown it was due for a cut.

"Perhaps a trim? I think I'm generally happy with the shape, but it needs to be trimmed," she explained thoughtfully.

Sylvy nodded as she listened and then began making suggestions to bang length and tapering and the like. When a style was decided on, Sylvy took her back to the darkened wash room. Not only was the hair wash amazingly relaxing, a special, extra conditioner was applied with a thorough, skin-raising scalp massage, Alessa then received the best neck massage she'd had in ages. Her body felt flush and her heart pounded as pleasure flooded her from the massage alone. The fifteen minutes was up too fast, and as Sylvy guided her back to the chair, Alessa silently promised herself to take the time for massages. She had a fleeting idea that she could just ask Denny.

In the end, Alessa walked out into the dark evening, the light fall breeze blowing her new waves, a feeling of invincibility radiating from her. Her step had more bounce, her stride happy and confident. She caught the bus to Russian Hill, and slowly made the long walk up to Denny's condo. Much to the butterflies in her stomach, he had given her the code to his building, and she knocked when she reached his door. 

She cleared her throat and combed her fingers through the now extremely silky locks, just as he opened the door. His jacket was off, but his black suspenders were still on over his crisp white shirt. He had loosened the collar, and standing there smiling at her, he looked nearly delicious. Alessa quickly chastised herself for her silly thoughts and braved a smile.

"Well, what do you think?"

"God, you're gorgeous," he praised, reaching out to cup her behind the neck and pull her forward. 

Alessa let out a breathy giggle, laced with disbelief and embarrassment. She felt her face flush a little at his praise, but when he ran his mouth along her cheek to nuzzle under her ear at her very sensitive spot, she felt herself instantly light up.

"Feel better?" her murmured against her.

She shivered in response, helpless to the ripples of pleasure he caused. She laughed fully then. "I do, actually. How'd you know? I mean, whatever made you think to send me there? Was my hair really that bad?"

He laughed and pulled back to smile in her eyes. "Of course not. Come, dinner's ready. Help me set the table and I'll tell you all about it," he promised. She took off her blazer, hanging it in his hall closet, and together they finalized the dinner. He had made a delicious looking stir-fry with a marinated salad. She lit the candles on the table, and after dishing out the food, they carried their plates to dine. The San Francisco night glittered in through the large French doors they sat near, and for a moment, there was silence, allowing the tension of the day to melt away.

"Okay, so tell me," she prompted when she had managed enough of her lo mein to ease her sharp hunger.

He back in his chair. "I once dated this blonde in college. I think her name was Rachel." He smiled in remembrance. "In fact, I know her name was Rachel, and for a whole semester, I was completely taken by this package of utter woman."

Alessa shifted a little uncomfortably in her seat, not willing to admit her jealousy over a woman no longer in his life.

"I had sent her flowers once, and a few days later had asked her if she liked them. Her answer gave me an invaluable insight to her species.

"She said, 'Men love getting blowjobs, right? Well women, more than flowers, love blow outs.' 

"I had never heard of that particular maneuver so I asked her to explain herself. 

"'Blow outs, as in getting your hair done by your stylist.' She it's such a simple thing, but guys never think to pay to get your hair done, even a simple wash and style, which can be just as inexpensive as nice flowers. Even if it makes a woman feel amazing. Even if it makes them look sexy. We just never think about doing that.

"She was a women's studies major, and she had a point. I had always thought flowers, especially for no reason other than I'd thought of her at some point in the day and had a few extra bucks to spend on her, was a nice gesture. Apparently, I was clueless about the intrinsic values of women and stuck to the easily publicized ideas of thoughtfulness. Flowers.

"I really didn't use that information until one day, several months later, I was sitting outside this little frozen custard place with my next girlfriend, whose name I can't recall, when I happened to notice a woman come out of the salon across the street. She was rather short and chubby, probably mid-forties. But I saw a brightness about her face, a lightness in her step. And more than once I watched her turn her head so her hair swished about her. And then I got it. She felt like the sexiest woman in the world because her amazing hair made her feel that way. 

The Blowout.

"After that realization, I made sure, especially if I were after something," he admitted wryly, "to comment on the hair of the woman I was with. More often than not, I saw a flash of self-satisfaction, joy at her sexiness in a way a simple, non-specific, 'You look sexy tonight,' never brought out."

He was silent as he kept at his noodles, Alessa watching him from above her wine glass. Many thoughts swirled in her mind. Most easily felt was the pother just below her breast bone that he was a man of the world, once belonging to many women, likely to return to them when whatever existed between them faded. But there was also the appreciation of his candor, his graceful disclosure of an insightful lesson learned. But what she found most attractive, most compelling and comforting, was his sense of her overall unease and that he had found a nonsexual way to calm her mental status, even if only temporarily.

"Thank you. I did feel better by the time I left," she admitted in a whisper, grateful for his attention, even if it still felt awkward to accept.

He smiled warmly at her. "You're welcome." He took her hand and kissed it, before they returned to finishing their food.

After dinner and a challenging game on the Nintendo, Alessa found herself laying across Denny's lap as he leisurely kissed her while a titillating hand skimmed up and down the length of her body, slowly but steadily arousing her. When the passion of their kisses grew to the point she shifted her legs restlessly against each other, he pulled her up so she straddled his lap. Her tight skirt was bunched up around her waist as her stocking-clad thighs spread wide. Despite the vulnerability she felt in being so open, Alessa liked the position as it allowed a new type of power as she leaned over him with her hair cascading around them. It also did wonders for her damping sex as she now had something quite firm to press against.

She cupped his face, tilting it up to her, needing no instruction to take the lead. She allowed her lips to hover above his, the heat of her breath warming him to the pit of his stomach. And then she parted her mouth just enough for her tongue to snake out and trace the contours his lips. He turned his face several times to provoke her into kissing him, but she only ever pulled back out of reach.

He groaned and closed his eyes, forcing his body to still beneath her. And then she rolled her hips against his lap, grinding her wet center on the hard bulge in his pants. His fingers dug into the flesh of her hips, feeling with something besides his aching erection the blatant undulation of her pelvis. She let out a stuttering breath, smiling at the thought that she could bring herself to orgasm like that if she wanted.

Hearing her breathy response to pleasuring herself on his lap, Denny opened his eyes, staring up into her deep blue ones, which were the loveliest shade of lust he'd ever seen on her. He raised a hand to cup her cheek and pull her down to his mouth. Despite the moment of power over him she'd experienced, she freely resigned it to finally kiss him again, to smash their lips together and allow his tongue to pry her mouth open. She felt the coil in her pit tighten as his tongue seduced the very breath from her body. Without attention to her seeking body, she was riding his lap fast toward orgasm.

And then Denny growled at her. "Take me out. Quickly."

She reached down to do as commanded, but had to stop kissing him to watch her shaking hands bumble with the task. Once his fly was open, her cool hand slid in to firmly grasp his hot staff. Denny hissed at the shocking coldness. Lifting his hips off the couch, he shoved the top of his pants down far enough to fully spring free. Alessa was moving to get off the couch to divest her sopping sex of her underwear, but she was stopped by his hands once again on her thighs. He reached for the juncture of her legs and hooked a finger in the crotch of her pink lace panties. Seeing him fully expose her, she pushed up to kneel higher with his engorged shaft still in her hand. She angled her hips forward, feeling him glide along the slit of her puffy sex. It somehow felt illicit to feel the wet tip of his genitals touch her clitoris, and it caused her inner walls to tighten in anticipation. A week had been too long.

And then he was at her entrance, the fat head spreading her needy inner lips. Finally positioned, she lifted her eyes to his, their intensity lighting her on fire. Slowly, she lowered herself, feeling him stretch her wide. Once he was secure enough inside, she placed both hands on Denny's shoulders to steady herself, aware that the sensation would send her keeling over. She shouldn't have worried, she thought vaguely, as she felt his strong hands glide up her sides possessively to hold onto her, pulling her onto him.

The familiar stretch was welcomed, missed, as no amount of her masturbation techniques could ever duplicate the utter completeness that was Denny inside her. He allowed her a moment to adjust, to settle, as he watched her rapt expression of closed eyes and open mouth. And when it felt as if he was as deep as possible in that position, he pulled her down to him for another kiss.

When his tongue invaded her mouth, his hips surged up, the last inch of his shaft entering her completely. She gave a small cry into his mouth, her eyes shooting open. He devoured her another minute more, but with a harsh and rapid breath, he pulled away, falling back against the couch. After another minute of collecting himself, he opened his eyes. Though there was tension that pushed to speed him along, he ran a hand down the front of her button-up shirt with unmistaken deliberation. He pinched the fabric and began tugging at it, pulling it out of the bunched-up skirt. When it was out, he pulled the bottom button free with one hand, and then the next and then the one after that, inch by inch revealing her slim waist hidden underneath.

When the last button was released, his eyes shifted up to her attentive ones for only a second before drawing the tips of his fingers down her chest and torso. The light caress was arousing as much as tickling, and it made her itch to be pressed hard against him. He skimmed his fingers up her once more, dragging against the edge of her shirt and then pushing it off one should and then the other.

His hands helped peel the shirt off her arms before turning his attention to her breasts. He was tempted to free her of her matching bra, but there was something decidedly erotic about her dusky nipples peeking out from the sparse pink lace demi cup. He spanned his fingers around her neck before dragging his hand down to firmly cup and squeeze a breast, kneading it and then pinching a nipple through the material. The pain in the small bead was a pulsing pleasure in the swollen lips of her sex. She moaned at both sensations, her own hand moving to cover his, though not to pull it away. Denny rubbed his thumb over the bud he'd just punished, soothing the sharpness to a deep ache.

Alessa's expression was pained, in need of more, of moving, of kissing, of being devoured. Of anything more. "Come here," he husked, his own tongue craving the velvet feel of hers. She leaned forward in relief, kissing him with ardor.

Denny's hands found their way back to her hips, and when the urge to move became great, he let his head fall back, their lips separating as he caught his breath once more. Looking back at her, he said, "Move."

Alessa was confused, not understanding the command. "You want me to get up?" she asked, thinking she couldn't get off him if she wanted to, her body now too far eaten with need to be able to move until she was filled with satisfaction.

His chuckle was coarse and pained. "No, Sweetheart, ride me," he clarified, hoping he didn't come too quickly, hoping she was just as close as he was.

Though her cheeks were already pink with passion, they turned absolutely red at his direction. He wanted to watch her writhe atop him. She shuddered, needing it, but fearing it all at the same time. 

When Denny saw the discomfort flitter through her eyes, dampening the desire that had glittered so brightly, his fingers dug in and he began to move her hips for her. He lifted her somewhat, but primarily circled her back and forth, establishing a sort of satisfying undulation.

Alessa's hands were still on his shoulders, and leaning forward, stabilizing herself on him, she allowed him to manipulate her, passively learning the motion before actively participating. When Denny felt her begin to move of her own volition, he leaned in and bit the other nipple that hadn't yet received his attention. He sucked it hard through the lace, causing it to pop through, trapped. He flicked his tongue over it, relishing its velvety texture contrasted against the rough lace.

Alessa was whimpering as she rode him, her back arched and head back with eyes closed. She focused; she could feel it off in the distance like a pin-point of light on the horizon and concentrated the movement of her hips, finding the exact stroke that progressed her exponentially closer each time. Suddenly, her pace sped as the ferocity of her gyrations increased ten-fold.

Denny could feel his sac tighten and knew he would come within just a few strokes. His arms quickly wrapped around her back, pulling her in. Alessa dropped her head forward and somehow managed to find his mouth in their frantic humping of each other. All their focus was on the powerful movements of their hips and they could therefore only pant against each other's mouths. Denny was there and thrust up against her as his body tightened in climax. Alessa let out a shrill cry, eyes screwing shut as her entire body tensed beyond control and then violently shuddered upon impact. Blindingly, they imploded upon each other, squeezed tight by their loins and legs and arms, the foreheads buried in the other's necks.

She continued to shake, with spasms rippling through her, keeping her shattered parts from coalescing with any sort of speed. Denny felt the sharp, mouth-water sensation slowly fade, and held her tight against him, feeling his arms move as she gulped for breath. At some point, when the aftershocks had seemed to finally disperse, they moved to the bedroom, and exhausted from the stressful week and the distressing sex, Alessa was almost instantly asleep. 




Trivial Pursuits Ch. 17



Behind her closed eyes, just on the horizon of sleep, she heard his quiet, sleepy voice. "I've been so lonely this week." 

"Hm? Why?" she murmured, pausing in her move to the edge of the waking world.

"My bed was empty without you."

She felt a warmth pull her back to the present. "You don't seem the type of person to miss anybody," she remarked lightly as her eyes opened, staring into the dark.

"Well, you aren't just anybody," he whispered, and then was silent, leaving her to carry her thoughts like heavy bags slowly back to the line of dark suspension.

She awoke sometime in the early morning, but when Denny stirred just enough to pull her back into the cradle of his arms, she allowed what little dross of sleep was left to drag her back under. When he nuzzled her neck several hours later, it was to whisper a groggy invitation to a shower with him. She gave a half-sleepy smile at the dreamy thought, but when she felt him move out of the bed, taking his warmth with him, she finally opened her eyes and considered the proposition with that familiar wrestling of excitement and apprehension.

When she arrived in the bathroom, Denny had started the shower of the spacious dark gray shower. Not willing to lose the incredible volume Sylvy had managed with her hair the evening before, Alessa wound a high bun atop her head, only the shortest wisps escaping to grace over her neck.

Denny had started the shower, and once hot enough, stepped inside. Alessa stood naked on the other side of the glass doors, watching him stand relaxed under the rain showerhead, his head down and eyes closed. He was impressive, his size suddenly taller, larger than he appeared in his svelte expensive suits and cool, killer lawyer mask.

Slowly, the door opened, and she sighed, knowing instantly her recently coiffed hair wouldn't last. Denny looked up, a thick torrent of water cascading down his face. He made deep places between her thighs weep in heady need. She wanted him. Suddenly, small flares of fear, anxiety, and embarrassment seemed to dissipate in the expansion of her desire to simply touch him. Her hair be damned.

Denny watched as she reached out for him, stepping inside his dark gray shower. He didn't move, sensing she wasn't reaching for his hand or his help, simply his body. He saw sparks ignite in her eyes, despite the water pouring down, and felt blood begin to swell in his penis, a delectable sort of ache beginning. 

"How do you stay so strong?" she asked with bewilderment, her slender fingers finally touching the firm, sculpted muscle of his chest.

"Exercise."

"But when?" she asked bewildered when he found the time as he never seemed to consistently leave the office long enough for a workout that would build this sort of muscle.

"Mornings. Keith comes about four times a week." He watched with ever-increasing desire as she traced the hard, long curves of his body with enchantment. And lust.

"Keith?" she questioned softly, uncaringly.

"My trainer," he murmured in explanation, watching as she finally, slowly stepped up to him, her hand flat on his chest as she turned her face up to him. He watched only a second as the water cascaded down the top of her head, saturating the dark threads of her hair, before she looked up and stopped his breath.

"Can we have sex in here?" she asked bluntly, innocently and wanting.

"Fuck yes," he groaned a moment before he yanked the tie for her hair and possessively pulled her hard against him. She cupped his cheeks, pulling him down into her for a hungry kiss. "Sweetheart," he gasped, feeling her wet body against his, "your hair." 

"Easy sacrifice," she spoke into his hot mouth that continually slanted over hers. Alessa, too, was mesmerized by the slick feel of water pouring over his toned body, and her fingers ran possessively down his chest. Denny sucked in a sharp breath when her hands found his growing erection, becoming fully hard in the ache of her fist.

While she never stopped kissing him, her hands began a stroke that was somewhere between enchanted exploration and purposeful caressing. At first, Denny pressed his hips into her, following her delightful lead. He continued kissing her, sliding his tongue sensually against her, moaning into her whenever she did something particularly pleasurable. At length, they had fallen into a collaborative effort, his hips thrusting gently into the ever-increasing firmness of her pulling hands.

Denny gave a heartfelt, "Fuck!" when Alessa reached down with her other hand to cup his sac at the base of his shaft, squeezing it until he felt the inward pull of an imminent orgasm. He pressed into her hard, effectively stilling her hands for a quick moment. "Sweetheart, wait," he pleaded, feeling the flames flick up his lower torso, the quiver of flesh that he couldn't control.

Alessa pulled back and opened her eyes. His face was contorted in pain as he focused on corralling the response of his body. When his breath seemed to calm to more rhythmed pants, he was able to look at her, able to take in the erotic beauty of her standing wet and lustful before him. He surprised her when he quickly grasped her hands, which were still clutching him and took two steps into her, pushing her back against the dark gray slate wall.

She gasped, startled. But the short burst of fear only lit her flames hotter, and for a moment, with only the sound of heavy breathing and the raining shower, they stared at each other.

Alessa felt devoured.

Denny ferociously claimed her mouth with his own, pressing himself hard into her, digging his steel-hard shaft into her belly. He let go of her hands to run them down her sides and then between her butt and the wall. After two or three almost painfully rough squeezes of her smooth cheeks, he firmly grasped them to lift her high, never stopping to kiss her the whole while. Alessa's legs instantly wrapped around his waist, her weight supported in his hands. And then his hard fingers were digging into the cleft of her bottom, finding the juicy wetness between her pooling lips, which he alone had caused.

Alessa felt his strong, thick fingers spear her from behind, finding her needy flesh with masterful accuracy. She whimpered as he plundered her, teaching her the sensations of the new angle with which he penetrated her. 

He could feel her thighs quiver as they clung to him, her smooth mound pressed against the stone plane of his stomach. When he couldn't stand the wait any longer, he slowly lowered her the few inches down his body until the aching head of his penis could feel the heat pouring from her body. Alessa shifted slightly in his hands, wanting him to enter her, but in no position to make it happen any faster. Denny pressed her harder into the wall, causing her to groan, but effectively stilling her impatient movements. He wanted her to feel like his toy, his tool, the helpless receiver of his body's search for pleasure.

He wanted her to feel fucked.

"Denny, come on," she moaned as he held her there, kissing her as he angled his hips gently back and forth to bring the tip of his erection up against her over and over, but never penetrating her. The dull tapping on her gaping and aching lips was maddening as it kept her smoldering but was never going to be enough to burn her down. "Please," she began to whine, wondering if this was one of those games he played just to get her to beg. "Why aren't you fucking me?"

She had tried to stop kissing him, but pressed against the wall as she was, she had nowhere to go, and was willingly helpless as he continued to consume her. Her hands were threaded in his hair, and as the ache in her loins grew and became an unbearable cramp, she grasped his wet locks, her nails digging into his scalp.

"Denny, if you don't fuck me this-"

Without warning, Denny rammed his hips up as he drew her down violently on his hard length. Alessa grunted as he hit her cervix. The sudden invasion, stretching her swollen tissue, was painful, but had the desired effect as she came instantly, her walls fluttering erratically around him. Denny pulled out only to shove harshly into her three or four more quick times until he came as well. He continued pumping into her, needling his ejaculate deep inside, riding the waves of her continuing climax until bliss overtook him.

They clung to each other, trembling, disoriented and euphoric. Their breathing was fast and shallow, occasionally joined by a shaky moan when an aftershock tore through one of them. The hands that had clasped him close to her began to relax until they were running over his shoulders and back. Denny's own hands were also altering his grasp on her round globes, now kneading them lovingly, soothingly.

When reality began creeping in through the cracks of the fading bliss, they returned to gently kissing each other, needing to give comfort as much as receive it. When Denny's finally soft shaft slipped from her body, he lowered her to her feet, kissing her a little longer. At some point, they were able to rinse off, though neither was much interested in actually ceasing from kissing long enough to shampoo and soap up. In the end, they settled for a long rinse and emerged from the hot shower.

He wrapped her in a plush bath sheet as he sat on the bench in the bathroom, lovingly kissing the dry skin he revealed as he went down her body. She threw a towel around him as well, leaning over to kiss his head and the back of his neck and tops of his shoulders until her legs were dry by his caring hands.

"And I think you're finished, Sweetheart," he observed coolly, not interested in staring at her arousing form as they had appointments to keep and couldn't squeeze in anymore sex. Denny took his naked body from the room to get dressed and leave her to beautify herself for their outing. By ten, they had eaten the breakfast he had prepared and were out the door to pick up Cadence.

Given their morning together, Denny was relaxed with no cloud on his horizon, but as they drove nearer to the address she had given him, her once sated nature seemed to morph into a brittle temperament, rigid and nervous. He merely took note, choosing not to mention it. 

As Denny turned down the street her father lived on, his eyebrows rose and he glanced over at the pensive woman, now sitting fully erect with hands clasped in her lap. He supposed living within sight of The Palace of Fine Arts had its advantages, but as he took in the anxiety in her that grew the closer they drew to her father's home, he wondered if she'd ever benefitted from them. After all, she grew up in Walnut Creek in an average lower-middle class home with a sick mom and creeping stepfather. She rarely spent time here; it wasn't her home.

"There," she stated pointing to the three-story home second from the end of the street. The stucco was painted a light ochre with dark wood trim. There was a small plot of grass between the sidewalk and the house, and the drive ran next to the home into the backyard. The trees were trimmed tight, and as it faced the south, the front was warmly lit in the mid-morning light.

"It's nice," he praised, not quite sure what else to say. 

"Yeah. It's been in Shelly's family awhile," she explained, looking up at the window. "Actually," she said suddenly, turning to him, "Can you pull up a little? Maybe a few houses down?"

Denny frowned in confusion. "I guess. Think I'll get a ticket blocking the drive?"

She made a noise as if to deny it, but then quickly agreed. "Yeah," she said was an almost-chuckle, "they're pretty strict around here."

Clearly that wasn't the reason, and though he didn't like it when she covered the truth, he didn't push it. He pulled forward until a tight space between two cars was found and paralleled perfectly. Before he could stop the engine, Alessa had popped out and yelled that she'd quickly grab her sister.

Denny could only sigh and get out himself, recognizing the obvious ploy to keep him from meeting her family. He leaned against his Audi, deciding perhaps it was better for everyone involved to be introduced one person at a time. As he stood there waiting, he studied the homes around him, taking note of which ones he liked and which ones he thought seemed a little tacky for that neighborhood.

Much to her unease, the front door was open, and the sun reflecting off the storm door with beveled glass somehow hid the dark interior with bright light. She thought she would have to knock, but as she reached the top step, the door burst open and Cadence came flying out, landing in her sister's arms.

"Oh my god, where is he?" she squealed.

"Bite your tongue," Alessa hissed, not wanting Shelly or her father to overhear. 

"Oh, be that way," Cadence grinned, not upset for a second. She turned to go inside for her bag and to tell her parents goodbye. 

"And you're going to be at Muir woods? For how long?"

"It's a hike, Shelly," Alex said with a smile and then sipped his coffee. Alessa stood by, silently telling herself she shouldn't be upset her stepmother was haranguing her as she was; after all, it was only par for the course. "You don't really have a set schedule for hiking. It'll take as long as they can stand it, right, girls?" Alex finished his banal observation.

"Yeah, mom. And besides, Alessa promised me a bon fire on the beach, so I may just spend the night with her," Cadence suggested, both to her mother's and Alessa's discomfort. 

"Actually, I'll have her back by ten. I have to work tomorrow," Alessa stated with a shrug when Cadence gave her a look of surprised disappointment. 

Shelly was still eyeing her speculatively, but her relenting expression was proof she wasn't going to argue with the plan anymore. "Alright, but call if anything, and I mean anything changes. Understood?"

Alessa forced a smile and placed her hand on her sister's shoulder. "Of course." She immediately turned and guided Cadence out before anything else could be said to delay their escape.

Octo twined her fingers in Alessa's. "Sorry about that. Mom was trying to come up with reason last night of why I shouldn't go today."

Alessa kept her mouth shut, but a ring of perturbed disgust changed the slant of her eyes. Cadence gasped. "Is that him? Oh my god, Alessa, he's...a man," she whispered, a sound of surprise and uncertainty and adoration thickly coating her voice. "He's your boyfriend?" she asked for confirmation, still unable to take her eyes from the man they were steadily approaching.

"That's him," she answered in her own whisper, pride and uncertainty and an unidentified need for approval blending together, causing her stomach to jitter.

Before Alessa had an opportunity to introduce her sister to her boyfriend who had stepped away from the car to smile at them, Cadence bounded forward, her slim hand outstretched. "You must be Denny. I'm Cadence, Alessa's sister, but of course you know that. You can call me Cadence or you can call me Octo. My mom and most of my friend's call me Cadence; only Alessa call's me Octo. It's her nickname for me since I'm so clingy. You know, like an octopus. But, since you're her boyfriend I guess you can use the same nickname. Or you could just call me Cadence, I'm fine with either."

Alessa's mouth open and eyebrows knitted in awe of her sister's ramble. Denny only chuckled with the same sort of charming and insouciant air that flittered all females' hearts and drew the confidence of all men. He even had the nerve to appear modest with that winning smile, Alessa noted with chagrin, wondering if she was only a victim to his charms as any woman would be.

"Cadence, it's very nice to meet you. I'm glad you could fit us into your schedule."

Alessa moved toward the car, and Denny turned, opening the back door for Cadence and her pack. She slipped in with the graceless ease of a young girl. He would have opened Alessa's door, but she was already in buckling herself, not willing to stay on the sidewalk where they could be spied by Shelly.

When Denny was in and pulled away from the curb, Cadence moved forward to stick her head between their two seats. Alessa chided her to put her seat belt on, but Cadence only argued her lap belt was on, just stretched out.

"Plus, I want to talk to Denny," she said, grinning widely in his rearview mirror. "And of course I'd fit you in," she stated, directing the conversation to him. "How could I not? When I found out Alessa had a boyfriend, a real boyfriend, 'cause let's face it, she's never had one, I couldn't pass the opportunity to be the first to meet him."

Alessa gave an almost-mute groan and looked out her window. Denny kept up his wide smile, looking over at the amount of discomfort she was in. "Wait until my mother hears 'it's an honor to meet me.'"

"I said the 'first to meet' you. It's more like a scientist discovering a mythical, never-before-seen creature rather than meeting a famous celebrity," Cadence corrected cheekily.

"Ouch!" Denny said with mock-pain, his hand clutching his heart. After a moment of laughing, he defended himself. "Though, in this case, my rarity is more a fact of Alessa's peculiarity, and not anything of my own defect."

"Gee, thanks," Alessa said, turning to look at him before rolling her eyes and turning back to the window. But Denny saw her smile.

"So, Cadence, what good secrets can you tell me about Alessa?" Denny asked in jest, waiting for the riled reaction. She did turn to look at him, clearly uneasy, but also aware that embarrassment by family and lovers was only natural.

Cadence chuckled. "I don't know. She's a pretty good girl. She's never been in trouble."

"Oh, as you have?" Alessa teased crossly, turning around to raise an eyebrow at her spoiled sister who always got away with murder.

"Well, I may have not been punished for the...mistakes I've made," she answered shrewdly, "but you've never done anything that you should be punished for." She turned to look at Denny. "I think if you were to look up the word 'goody-two-shoes' in the dictionary, you'd find her picture."

Denny laughed at that. Alessa only sighed stared mutinously out the window.

"But anyway, no, nothing embarrassing to report, I'm afraid. Only interesting things about her are the books she gives me to read."

"Oh, yeah?" Denny asked.

"Oh sure. In fact, for my birthday, she gave me a whole box of her favorite books that she read when she was my age."

"Of course Cadence is young for her school year. Her birthday is right before the cut-off," Alessa explained.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Cadence asked.

"It only means I think you're above average; you can compete academically with kids who are almost a full year older than you."

"I guess."

"And what books did she give you for your birthday?"

She thought for a moment and then listed of the ones she had read. "Romeo and Juliet, Great Expectations, The Old Man and the Sea, The Odyssey, Wuthering Heights. That's what I've gotten through so far. Unfortunately, we're only reading a few of the ones she gave me."

Alessa explained. "They've changed the freshman curriculum quite a bit since I was in school. A lot of new modern reads. Not the same old classics," she sighed looking out her window.

"I would have thought you would have preferred to read those yourself," Cadence commented.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you know how you hated the books you gave me-"

"I never said I hated them," Alessa defended, shocked, as she turned around to her sister.

"Maybe not in so many words."

"Why does she hate them?" Denny asked.

"I don't."

"You said you hate how the women are portrayed."

"How are they portrayed?" he asked.

"Well, Alessa, it's your opinion, you tell him."

"I simply stated it was infuriating that women's ambition in the books was disguised as using their base nature to advance. That a man could advance through hard work but a woman's advancment was only through marriage or an illicit affair. And they all ended in death. It's like the desire for more in life was an evil flaw in the insipid nature of women." With her rant over she eyed both of them, daring them to argue.




Trivial Pursuits Ch. 17



"See. She hates them," Cadence surmised simply.

Alessa just sighed and looked ahead, watching the suspension wires of the deep rust colored bridge flicker past as Denny sped out of the city.

The parking lot at the entrance to the heavily wooded park was already filling up when they arrived. Denny was able to find a spot, and without much ado, the trio was walking leisurely through the great forest, stopping frequently to take in the breathtaking beauty and wonder of the giant trees around them.

After rounding a sharp bend, a small sitting area appeared off to the left, nestled in the smallest, most charming cluster of trees. It was picturesque. 

Cadence fawned over the enchantment and begged to stop for a quick break. Without waiting for an answer, she went over to one of the trees on the perimeter and plopped down against a soft groove in the trunk that was perfect to nestle her body. She opened her small black pack and pulled out a sketch pad and pencil. With intent eyes, she started studying the bench and the surrounding trees before an analytical expression twisted her mouth.

Then she snapped her head to her sister and boyfriend. "Would you guys mind sitting on that bench for me?"

At first Alessa was uncertain to what she was asking, or why, but Denny reacted immediately, taking her hand and leading her over. "A quick portrait, right?" he asked as he guided Alessa to sit on the side nearest Cadence.

"Right. Ten minutes tops."

Denny walked to the opposite side of the bench so his back was to Alessa's. He turned around so he could see her, and Alessa turned around to face him as well before looking back at her sister who was already busy sketching the scene.

When she turned back to Denny, she gave him a speculative look. "I'm not so certain about this."

He smiled. "Why not?"

But she had no specific reply. They were silent a moment, her eyes drifting away from the intimacy in his gaze. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised," he said softly some minutes late.

She turned to look at him. "Surprised about what?"

"That you would defend ambitious women."

She seemed to blush, something she hadn't done much lately. He missed it. "Oh, well, it just always infuriated me whenever a woman would screw up. She always needed more but there wasn't anything in society she could safely take. It was either love or advancement."

They were silent again as her words wove between them. "But now a woman can have both," he stated, again in the soft, almost pleading voice.

Her eyes fluttered up to his. There was a pause before she spoke. "Can she?"

"Absolutely." And he leaned in a whispered a kiss on her lips.

"Hey! No moving!" Cadence chirped, though her lips wrestled down the smile that was trying to force its way onto her face.

Alessa giggled and he smiled, and together, in a peaceful moment tinged with a mirroring desire, they stared each other contentedly.

When Cadence was at last finished, she popped off the ground and stuffed the book back in her bag.

"Hey, don't we get to see?" Alessa asked standing up and following the retreating artist.

"No! Definitely not. My drawings are for me and me alone," she stated, not slowing.

As Denny and Alessa followed, he took her hand, and after three steps smiled smugly that she didn't pull away. After their enjoyable amble through the woods, they headed for the beach not far away. Cadence was all excitement, but had the wherewithal to help Denny and Alessa carry the supplies from the car to the beach where they set up for the afternoon, Cadence chattering away the entire time. When everything was at last in place, they had quick sandwiches before spending their time with several games of bocce ball, Denny winning most, but not all. They took strolls along the small beach nestled in the rolling hills, playing tic-tac-toe in the sand. Denny and Cadence found a mutual love of art and architecture and were able to carry on conversations sans the third party.

At some point they began a fire and cooked their evening meal, the lazy sounds of the waves cresting against the soft sand, cool and warm breezes mingling, but not enough to disrupt their laid out blanket. There was laughter and camaraderie, and Alessa had a flittering thought that she hadn't been that happy in a long time.

Cadence fell asleep on the drive back, and as promised Alessa delivered her safely home before ten. As she walked her sister up to the front door, she made her promise to exclude mention of Denny, to which she agreed. She kissed her good bye, and when she climbed back into Denny's car, she sighed in relief the day had been a happy success.

"Sure you don't want to come home with me?" Denny asked as he started the car.

Her answer took a second, first disappointing, then delighting him. "I'm sure. Wanna come home with me?" she invited.

He only looked at her a moment, before he broke out in a giant smile. "Absolutely."

The drive to her small apartment wasn't long, and as they walked to the garage she lived above, Mr. Cho stepped out his back door.

"Alessa, that you?"

"Oh, Mr. Cho," she said in surprise, looking between him and Denny, feeling as if she'd been caught by her father trying to sneak her boyfriend in her room. "Um, Mr. Cho, this is Denton Ashbury my..."

"Boyfriend. Very nice to meet you," Denny supplied, walking over to shake the short gentleman's hand.

"You have boyfriend?" he asked with gaiety twinkling in his eyes.

"Apparently so," she sighed and took the few steps to stand next to the men.

"Oh, I so happy for you. I knew you beautiful for reason," he gushed, smiling so wide his cheeks were nearly perfect mounds.

As Denny laughed, she thanked Mr. Cho for his compliment and then dragged Denny away to her apartment, silently praying he liked her for more than just her pretty face.



Trivial Pursuits Ch. 18



Dear Readers,

Thank you for all the great emails and feedback everyone has sent my way. Lots of provocative discussions as well as welcome kudos, so please keep it all coming; I really enjoy it all. 

In answer to one poster's question, at this point, I have about 26 chapters outlined. However, as I am going along, I'm starting to get a little bored with the story and wonder if I haven't tried to put in more than I need. With that thought, I think what will end up happening is a heavy dose of pre-editing, so maybe just 23 chapters or so. But not to worry, I decided that I could take the scenes I don't actually end up using for this book and write little quick short stories with them and leave them on Literotica permanently. I hope that meets with everyone's approval, and if not...oh well :)

Please vote and comment as you like! And once again, another big THANKS to AlreadyTaken who does so much work editing for me. You're a peach!

Enjoy!

Titania

***********

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN





Trivial Pursuits Ch. 18



She rolled her eyes and smiled. He certainly was a schemer, she thought, admitting that life with him was never dull.

As hoped, they beat the majority of the rush hour traffic, but it was still thick enough to slow them down at times to nothing but a crawl. Denny headed out west on the 635, changing over to the 114 and then at last heading north on the 377, a wide sprawling six lane road that eventually whittled its way down to nothing more than a two lane country road. Construction, which was ubiquitous around the DFW area, was present along their route into the country, slowing their progress through flat and softly rolling land of short grass and Mesquite trees.

Alessa craned her neck several times whenever they passed longhorn cattle, which were just as often as not laying on the ground, their legs tucked beneath them in a state of confident repose. And why not? She wondered, admitting nothing was likely to disturb a giant with spears growing out of its head. After nearly forty-five minutes, they crested a hill on a dirt road, the last of the setting sun glowing a dying orange. The sky had been rapidly shifting its hues on their drive west, going from blue to purple, to dancing pinks and oranges, the sun warming clouds and coloring them artistically with the few remaining minutes of daylight. 

He pulled over at the top of the hill, opening the door for her once he got out. Holding her hand, they walked off the road to a barbed-wire fence that ran along the edge of a large and empty pastureland. The sky felt so huge here, Alessa thought, looking up to a high vault that was dappled with ever-changing clouds, shifting in both hue and shape. 

After a few moments of silence when they had the opportunity to absorb the tranquility before them, she cocked her head to look at him. "So...what are we doing here?"

He only smiled, a soft, melancholy sort of smile. He gave a little shake, "I just wanted you to see it, that's all, since we were in this neck of the world."

"And what is it?"

"This land, all this land as far as the eye can see, once belonged to my family. To my dad's family."

"Really?" she asked in awe, turning back to look at all the space, all the emptiness of nature that nothing filled except the scattered Mesquite trees and occasional short cactus.

"Yeah. My dad left to work in Dallas, and then moved out to California, but my uncle Patrick stayed, made his living here with his family and with my grandparents. About fifteen years ago, a big developer swooped in, bought as much of the land between Denton to Fort Worth as he could. They held out as long as they could, but in the end they sold out."

He was quiet in his reverie, his eyes seeing off into an unseen distance. Alessa reached over hand, rubbing his shoulder and then leaned into him to wrap her arm around his back. The dusky twilight was beginning to glitter as the last of the sun's direct light fell behind the west horizon and lights off in the distance were coming on line.

"Do you wish they hadn't?" she asked softly.

He shrugged. "What's to wish for? It wasn't ever a part of me, not really, not in the way San Francisco is, not in the way my career is. Or you are," he answered gently, his arm wrapping around her at last, as he laid a kiss at the crown of her head.

"But it still makes you sad," she observed.

"Well, sure. I have childhood memories of the place. Not to mention there's something about making a living from the same work as your father. That you continue on with him, even when you become a man, that you inherit his life, not just his things."

She looked up at him with her cheek still against his chest. "And yet you inherited the life he wished he'd had," she observed.

He smiled. "Yeah, I did. Law," he sighed with a smile. "That's all he talks about. That and politics. He was never meant to be a rancher. It's kind of ironic," he mused.

"What is?"

"That life conspires against us. That it throws us into circumstances that are at complete odds with the desires it first puts in our hearts." His smile was back to being poignant. "Anyway, I think you'd like him. Don't have really the same areas of interest, but you both like to argue," he commented with a smile. "In fact," he began slowly, pulling away from her in order to look down at her, "I've been thinking for a while...I'd like for you to meet them." When he saw her expression changed to wariness, he rushed on. "I know it sounds like sort of a big deal, but I wanted you to come home with me when I go back at Thanksgiving."

Her eyes widened even more. "Meet your family? At Thanksgiving? Denny, that is a big deal," she hedged with uncertainty.

His expression was serious but calm. "Yes, it is."

She looked away, unable to meet the intensity his request and his eyes required. She sighed. "I'm not sure. This...we're just..." but there weren't the right words available to accurately capture what they were to each other. Denny had insisted numerous times that despite the fact that he was instructing her on how to be in a relationship, what they shared was real. And in real relationships, one meets the family of the partner. She sighed again and turned to look at him. 

"Okay, sure." He broke out into a radiant smile, even in the clinquant dusk. "I suppose we'll be off on Wednesday?" He nodded. "And I can bring my work with me and won't be judged for it?" she asked with a sly smile.

"Promise. Though you may not use it as an excuse to be locked away the entire time," he stipulated.

She sighed and then smiled, leaning into him once more. "Deal."

Denny kissed her, happy to seal the deal. "And since we're on the topic, maybe you'd like to think about returning the invitation," he suggested cheekily.

"What? You want to meet my family?"

"Of course," he chuckled.

She sounded exasperated. "But you've already met Cadence. Isn't that enough?"

"Not by half. Don't get me wrong, you're sister's great, but I have the very distinct feeling that your parents aren't even aware we're dating, are they?"

She looked away and then turned to head back to the car, little left to see with the purpled sky, now darkening by the second. She wrapped her arms around her, surprised at how cold it was in Texas, even for early November.

"My life's personal," she stated as she buckled in.

"But it's your family. They should know about what's going on in your life. To share in your happiness and sadness," he explained. "They should know when you're in a serious relationship."

"Not my family," she contradicted bluntly and then looked out her own window into the darkness.

He wasn't going to press it, feeling her anger inexplicably rising at what he had already said. But during their drive back, she sighed and turned his way. "Fine. If you want to meet them, maybe we could all get together in a Saturday or two," she relented, though it was with evident reluctance.

In the dark he reached over and took her by the hand, lifting it to his lips and placing a grateful kiss on her knuckles. They returned to the hotel with two hours before they were to meet the entire Mingo team at the restaurant. 

"Shower?" Denny offered, grazing his lips down her neck. 

Her eyes lifted to his in the mirror. A shower wasn't a bad idea. And if the sinister gleam in his eye was anything to go by, their time would be filled with more than just bathing. Guessing correctly, Alessa wasn't surprised when his kisses continued once they were inside, trailing tantalizing over her now wet neck and shoulders. His strong hands were coaxing delicious sensations from her as they caressed their way around to the front of her, tickling along her hip bone, sliding up to cup and pinch and tease one nipple and then the other. 

Alessa wound her arms up and behind his head as she arched her chest into his hands. Leaning back against his strong chest, she turned her face to him, silently requesting his lips on hers. Denny turned his attention to her, his mouth close enough to share her breath, and as they stood thus embraced, his right hand made a determined line down her torso. She needed no coaxing to spread her thighs, feeling a tingling wake where his falling hand skimmed her. And as his fingertips grazed her already aroused bud, the tip of his tongue flicked out to lightly lick her parted lips. 

A disappointed moan escaped her when he merely teased her with his wicked tongue, but didn't satisfy her with the kiss she sought. She unwittingly followed, her mouth open to capture his tongue should it reappear, but then his fingers became more determined, rubbing her slick sex with more than just passing flicks. Her head fell back as he played her masterfully, quickly building the arousal unfurling inside her. And still she wanted to kiss him. Again he stroked her lips with his quick tongue, drawing another moan from her when he retreated. His fingers parted the line of her lips, sliding down to her tight entrance, and then when he pushed two fingers roughly in, his mouth fell hungrily on hers.

Alessa groaned in abject need, weak from the passion he demanded of her. With his skillful fingers plunging her silken core and his mouth seducing her sweet mouth, Denny was aggressively driving Alessa to the pinnacle of desire, sparking her to flame despite the water pouring down them. When her cries of pleasure became telling of her imminent climax, her hips rolling with his thrusting fingers, Denny cruelly withdrew them from of her clutching body, spinning her around and swooping her up in one fluid movement. She needed no guidance to wrap her shapely legs around his waist, holding on to his shoulders as he positioned the fat head of his erection at her entrance. Again without warning, he forced her down onto his shaft, impaling her violently. She grunted when he hit the deepest part of her, a clenching ache causing her breath to leave her for more than a second. 

When her body had adjusted, her limbs unconsciously tightened around him, pulling her closer into his strength. Denny held her by the round globes of her bottom, and when her hips began to move, seeking the answering rhythm of his body, he began moving her slowly on him. Her upper back rested against the wall, and when he began to move her, she raised her head, once more seeking the comfort of his kiss.

He seemed to be made to kiss her, Alessa thought beneath the currents of pleasure both his thick hardness and his lips and tongue produced. As he worked her up and down on him, his hands drew closer to the center, eventually touching the inner flesh of her crease. And then a finger was at the crinkled skin of her anus.

Alessa sucked in her breath and thrust her pelvis away from his prodding finger. "What are you doing?" she asked, alarmed enough for the dross of passion to dissipate almost immediately.

"Relax," he soothed against her mouth, trying to tempt her back into kissing him. But when his finger continued rubbing the tender tissue there, she didn't stop her wiggling to get away from it. 

"Denny, what are you doing?" she demanded, pulling her mouth from his and looking him as sternly in the eye as she could muster.

"Sweetheart, have I ever done anything that you didn't like?"

"I'm not liking this," she immediately responded.

He gave a sighing chuckle. "You haven't even let me do anything. Will you trust me and at least let me show you?"

Alessa face scrunched in uncertainty awash with disgust. "I don't know," she hedged.

"Let me show you, and if anything hurts or you just don't like it, I can stop. Promise."

She continued drawing up in dread, but leaned forward again, wrapping her arms tightly around his shoulders and burying her face in his neck. "Okay," she whispered, her body unconsciously tensing in apprehension.

"Sweetheart," Denny murmured, his lips caressing the skin of her neck. But he knew it was pointless to tell her to relax. His hand left the vulnerable place at her bottom and rubbed soothingly up and down her back. He moved her on him, slowly though his biceps were beginning to feel the burn. At length, Alessa began responding to the sensation and allowed him to coax her face from the crook of his neck and kiss him again. When he felt she was sufficiently relaxed, well enough distracted, his hand once again rubbed its way to the crease of her bottom, three fingers grazing, almost roughly, over her back entrance.

Denny hoped the motion was enough of a firm massage to the general area and not a pin-point attack that threatened her. And he hoped that it was enough to light those sensitive nerve endings on fire, making her become aware of the possible pleasure there. 

When she didn't seem to balk at his blunt rubbing, he began to increase the pressure of just one finger, until again he was swirling the wrinkled skin. Alessa moaned into his mouth, her hips now moving in sync with not only his thrusts into her body, but his finger swirling against her tight sphincter. And then gently he applied just enough pressure to edge the tip of his finger inside.

Again, she tensed against him, her mouth stilling against his. "Shh, Sweetheart, relax. It won't be painful if you just relax."

She seemed to shudder against him, and with a long exhale, he felt her body slowly relax, though her tight opening didn't give much. Removing his hand to cup her on the bottom, his other hand reached for the travel-size bottle of conditioner. He flipped the cap and squirted a healthy size onto a few of his fingers. When the rosemary-mint scent wafted up to him, he was grateful it wasn't a fruity one.

Now, with fingers slickened by copious amounts of make-shift lubricant, Denny again focused on the tiny rim. He was undulating gently into her, his thrusts not the focus of his energy. Alessa was kissing the underside of his jaw, attempting to train her mind on pleasures other than the awkward invasion into her anus. She tried to relax for him, knowing the more she squeezed, the more painful it would be. She was taking deep breaths and letting them completely out when the tip of his finger made progress past the outer ring.

Denny halted his advancement, turning his attention back to kissing her, back to moving her on and off his shaft, realizing she would require another moment of adjustment before he could continue on. Again, when she seemed relaxed against him, his finger slowly pushed inside, sliding past the strong circular muscles. He turned his hand so the pad of his finger stroked the thin wall between her vagina and rectum.

He groaned at the eroticism. "Fuck," he said lowly, "I can feel myself in you." Denny's eyes closed as Alessa leaned away from him again so her back rested against the tiled wall. He was content to just stand there and stroke his shaft through her delicate tissue. Her breath was stuttered, and then she began to move her hips on him, working herself up and down as he held her suspended in the air. He opened his eyes to watch her lithe body move toward release. The most fucking beautiful thing. He could feel his sac begin to tighten.

"Touch yourself," he growled, wanting to see her stomach convulse and feel her inner walls flutter from the other side. She dropped a hand from his shoulder and found her clit, rubbing it almost frantically as he picked up the pace with his lone finger, now working in and out. She was moaning in a different, almost tortured tone she hadn't vocalized before. His finger in her bottom was building a new kind of pleasure, if it could be called that. Something warm, without the heat, something controlling without the pinpoint sharpness like in her nub. Something new.

She began calling his name, her hips gyrating against him as her hand moved rapidly on her tiny, aching pearl. "Please," she moaned.

He could feel it rising, feeling the tensing of his skin at the base of his shaft. And then he saw the muscles of her lower abdomen quiver. Denny pulled back and thrust brutally into her once and then twice. His imbedded finger felt his organ pulsing as he shot countless wads of his come inside of her. Her legs drew up tight around him, and in her climax, she clutched herself to him, squeezing her body as snuggly to him as possible. Not even a drop of water fitting between their skin.

Denny felt dizzy, the intensity of his orgasm draining him of his presence of mind. He was breathing harshly, a hand against the wall supporting them as they slowly regained their senses. Though her entire being buzzed in the chaotic after-glow, she eventually lessened her hold on him, unwrapping her legs so she could slide down his body.

It had been the most unique sensation, erotic and pleasurable, but reminiscent of other things, and she suddenly didn't know what to think about how it had driven her to orgasm so intensely. She was quiet as she soaped up and washed her hair. Denny finished bathing before she did, and by the time she emerged from the shower he was nearly dressed.

There wasn't much speaking as they continued to get ready, partly because the loud hum of her hair dryer drowned any conversation, and partly because Denny was too content to think of words while she was filled with feelings that had no words. At one point, her phone silently buzzed on the counter next to the sink. The caller I.D. said 'mom.' She reached for it, paused, and at the last second switched it off. She would talk to her tomorrow, but not now, something the color of guilt rolling in her stomach.

On the drive to the restaurant, Denny was relaxed and jovial, sharing his childhood memories of Dallas. She listened quietly, picturing him as a precocious boy, while struggling to erase the remnant feelings of guilt. She pondered them, his voice fading into the background. Was she ashamed of what they had done in the shower? After considering it, she didn't think that was it. She gave a half smile when she admitted at this point, she was happy to allow anything Denny could do to her body that brought her pleasure. Alessa acknowledged at least some obvious guilt for not talking to her mom as she hadn't in a little more than a week. But there was guilt before she declined her mom's call; it was guilt that made her switch her phone off. So, what was that guilt?

Denny said something and chuckled, drawing her back into the car. She turned to look at him, smiling as he glanced over at her. She couldn't explain it, but there was guilt in her happiness when she looked at him. They arrived at the restaurant, which was enchantingly lit with a million twinkle lights on the hedges outside. The hostess led them back to the private room in which twenty or more people were all gathered. Ken Mingo was already present and came over to greet them, once again profusely thanking them for their excellent work. Much to Alessa's relief, the dinner went smoothly, several people making toasts, imbibing in the abundant alcohol and good food. Conversation never ceased, and Alessa sat back and observed it all, chatting cordially when necessitated by another's questions or remarks. At one point in the evening, Denny's hand had strayed under the table was to softly finger the curves of one of her knees. The caress sent shivers up her body, and when she looked over, he didn't appear to be aware of what he was doing as he conversed with Ms. Sanchez assistant. And though it seemed he was oblivious to it, it held more comfort to her than she could express.

That night they slowly made love, filled with soft, reverent touches and long, tender kisses. After, they talked into the early hours of the morning, sharing dreams of their childhood, moments of realization that stripped innocence and shaped them into who they were. He laughed when she relayed an incident as a high school sophomore in which she over extended herself with too many academic obligations, resulting in a humorous late arrival at the academic bowl in the blaringly wrong outfit.




Trivial Pursuits Ch. 18



In the morning, Denny was reading the paper and finishing his breakfast while she got ready in the bathroom when her phone rang. It was her mother again, and with the quick return of the unbidden guilt and resulting confusion, she picked it up with a sigh, answering it with as much normalcy of voice as she could muster.

"Hi, mom."

"Hey there, sunshine. Where've you been? I've been trying to get ahold of you for a couple of days now."

"Yeah, I know, it just that I'm out of town on a business trip."

"Business on Saturday?"

"Well, we're leaving this morning."

"We, huh?"

Alessa sighed and rolled her eyes. "Yes, one of my superiors," she clarified nonchalantly.

"Hm. Well, then I don't suppose you'll be able to come home at all this weekend?"

Alessa groaned softly. She had been avoiding going out to Walnut Creek for more than a month. She missed seeing her mom, but nothing else. Not the discomfort and boredom of spending the entirety of her time locked in her mother's cluttered room, not the avoidance of the disgusting eyes of her stepfather, not the constant conversation of how sick her mother was feeling.

"Maybe I can come out for part of the day tomorrow," Alessa suggested, deciding she could reasonably tolerate the uncomfortable situation for a few hours.

"Okay, that'd be nice. I miss you," she said, looking forward to seeing her daughter.

"Yeah, me, too," Alessa answered honestly. "Okay, so you tomorrow. Mid-morning."

"Love you."

"Love you."

Alessa stared searchingly in the mirror, trying to unearth the origin of her unsettled feelings, until she shrugged and decided she simply didn't want to go home anymore and any other reasoning was too unnerving to dissect.

Though the majority of the hefty work was complete, Alessa spent what time she could on the flight back organizing the remainder of the tasks for the team to accomplish while Denny looked on, quite impressed with her drive to take over and her natural ability to do so. Though a part of him might have typically bristled at another attempting to take control of a project from him, he merely smiled in pride at her impressive skills.

On Sunday, she did as promised and visited her mom. Just as expected, they sat in her bedroom surrounding by an ever-growing collection of junk and trash, which made Alessa's compulsion to clean itch until her skin crawled. That evening, she went for an extended run, needing more pain and exhaustion than her typical pace and distance provided. And when Denny called while she lounged in her tub, she was filled with that same lingering guilt as before. Refusing to analyze it any longer, she picked up her phone and answered it.

They chatted for almost a half an hour while she soaked, and then he shared the good news. "As a commendation for our excellent work, I'm being honored at a special partner's luncheon on Thursday."

"Really? Congratulations. Quite a little honor," she demurred happily for him.

He chuckled. "Yeah, well, let's be honest; the project wouldn't have gone nearly as smoothly if not for you. You're one in a million."

She blushed, her stomach tightening with that fluttering sensation only he caused. She bit her thumbnail as she tried to keep from giggling. "Yeah, well, just don't forget us little people when you get to the top," she instructed with an almost disbelieving, self-deprecating air.

"Believe me, not gonna happen. For one, there is nothing little in your abilities. Secondly, I have no doubt that there is every chance you'll beat me to the top. And lastly, I couldn't forget you if I wanted to."

There was a moment of silence as Alessa felt her insides melt completely and was unable to carry on any banter.

"Anyway, on Friday, I'm hosting a party for the team as a thank you."

"That sounds nice. Need any help arranging it?" she offered without thinking.

"Thanks, Sweetheart, but I can't properly thank you if I make you do all the work for it, now can I?"

She could hear the warm smile in his voice. She sighed. "Ah, I suppose not." There was silence before she shivered, realizing for the first time her water had finally gone cold.

"Well, I should probably go, my bath water's only a degree above freezing and my fingers are all pruny. Not pretty."

"Bath, huh?" he asked with obvious licentious interest.

She laughed. "Not any more. Now it's only water swirling down a drain."

"But you're naked," he stated.

"Nope, now I'm in my robe. About to brush my teeth, so I've got to go," she laughed.

"Will you think of me tonight in bed?"

"Not at all," she denied. "I'll be asleep a second after hitting the pillow."

"But in that second?"

She was quiet, and then a soft smile answered a moment before her voice did. "Yes, in that second I'll think of you."

"'Night, love."

"'Night, Denny."

Apparently Alessa lied, as much to herself as to him, for the moment she was in bed, she wasn't asleep. In fact, she couldn't stop thinking about Denny and the desire to do something...nice for him. She wasn't much in the way of giving gifts, but an exciting idea began to form, slowly crystalizing into a daring scheme that made her want to be bold in ways she never had been before. In the following days, she worked out how she was going to carry it off, until she decided the only thing to do would be to steal his key.

On Tuesday evening they had dinner together in his office after her run, but Wednesday morning, he was surprised when she popped in to say should would be leaving at five.

"Not staying late?" he asked.

"Can't. Have an errand to run that can't wait," she explained, sauntering casually in, her eyes casting over the art on his walls. "What about you?" she asked in a slightly disinterested air.

He sighed and leaned back in his chair, looking over at the open files on his desk. "I'll be lucky to get out of here by seven. But tomorrow's important, so I probably won't stay after that," he answered unsuspectingly.

She nodded and then turned to leave. "Alright, well I'll talk to you later." She watched his office the rest of the day, waiting for a moment when the coast would be clear. When three rolled around, she was afraid she wasn't going to get the opportunity she needed and was scrambling to think of a way to orchestrate her plan, when she watched him walk toward the elevators with another partner and Claire. Perfect! She stood and followed discretely, watching as they got on and then watched the elevator numbers count down until they hit the lobby. She turned and walked to his office, acting casual, but keeping her eyes alert.

Thankfully, when she opened his top drawer where he kept his keys, he hadn't taken them as she feared, but left them in place. Quickly, she grabbed up his apartment key and threaded it around the loop and off the ring. She replaced the rest back in the drawer, closing it quietly and leaving his office. She headed casually for the employee lounge, deciding it would make her look the least suspicious if she carried about her typical daily actions instead of running back furtively to her desk. No one seemed to be aware that she had done anything untoward, and when Denny and the others returned forty-five minutes later, she waited anxiously for him to discover what she had done. But he never came out looking for her, and at five on the dot, Alessa joined the support staff at the elevators, clamoring to escape the office.

Smiling victoriously to herself, Alessa made her way down Market to one of the higher-end department stores. Inside the men's department, she languorously strolled through the fine selections of shirts and silk ties. Her fingers skimmed the exquisite materials, feeling the luxury and decadence, and the innate sensuality of such textures. She vacillated on the color and the patterns, finding a few choice selections of red and blue and black. In the end, she pictured which of his expensive suits he would wear to his meeting the following day and chose the shirt and tie to match it. She wondered if she should also select a new pair of suspenders, but decided with a wry smile he had enough already. Her selections in hand, she made her way to the lingerie section and hunted for the perfect piece. Or pieces. She hadn't yet decided.

The sales lady came over and offered her help, to which Alessa shyly stated she would be fine on her own. The older woman gave her a knowing smile and a tip of her head, inviting her not to hesitate should she need anything. Alessa curiously surveyed her countless options. There was underwear of the vintage style, large and covering, made of satin and lace and little ribbons. There was the dangerous looking pieces with multiple bands and strings that seemed more fitting for a dungeon of torture than her planned night ahead. There was cute, see-through. There was ruching and bows. There was little more than well-placed strings. There were so many options that she momentarily felt she wouldn't come away with anything just right. But then she saw the perfect pair. Black. Simple thick lace. The cheeky style that would perfectly frame the round globes of her bottom. The low cut front would hit just below her hip bones, accentuating her taut stomach. She grabbed them, paid and left.

She stopped by the restaurant at which she had placed their dinner order, then took a taxi to his condominium building. She used his key to enter, checking the time. She plated the food and stuck it in the oven on low, before quickly taking her many bags to his bathroom. Alessa twisted up her hair and slipped into the shower, adroitly avoiding getting her hair wet despite the rain showerhead. Refreshed, she dried and then freshened up her makeup, adding more dark eyeliner and deep plum shadow. 

Then she turned her attention to her new panties, sliding them up her smooth legs, turning in the mirror to admire how perfectly they fit her. She slipped on his new black tie, liking the matte black overlaid with the shinier black pattern that was subtle yet strong. Once it was loosely tied about her slender neck, she slipped on the new white shirt, deciding at the last minute to not roll up the sleeves as she didn't want it wrinkled so he could wear it the next day. She also decided to not button it up, but to leave it open, hiding her breasts and leaving just the center down her torso viewable.

It was nearing seven o'clock when she finished prepping, her hair down in a mess of tangled waves, her enticing, barely-there apparel on, hypnotic indie electric music playing in the background, and the last of the candles lit. It was already dark in the city, and as she sat at the high bar stool strategically situated in front of the doors to the balcony and his front door open, Alessa waited.

In the long minutes preceding his arrival home, Alessa struggled to keep with the plan, to not quickly bail and put everything in order and leave. She wanted to do this, she told herself. She wanted to show him how proud she was of him and how much she wanted him. Alessa fought to throw off all the convoluted baggage she'd carried with her since childhood, deciding there wasn't a better man than Denton Ashbury and there wasn't anyone she wanted more. 

At nearly seven-thirty, she heard the elevator chime in the hall, a slow approach and the jingling of keys before the silence. She waited, positioned as she was down the long corridor so he would see her the moment he opened his already-unlocked and propped open door. One long leg was bent up, the stem of her incredible black heels catching on the bar of the stool. She leaned forward on her hands placed at the juncture of her thighs, barely hiding her panties. Her heart beat hard enough to hurt.

The moment felt as if it would stretch on into eternity. And then her phone chimed; she'd received a text. Only three seconds later and Denny slowly pushed open his door, the light of the hall throwing his form into black silhouette. He stood there with his briefcase in one hand and his phone in the other, his feet unmoving.

Alessa felt as if she was going to be sick. But she had done this much, she might as well carry through with all the confidence of the world.

"Welcome home," her husky voice greeted him.

Denny stood looking into the dark of his apartment, taking in the candle-lit form of his girlfriend, who had somehow, miraculously, transformed into something brazen and altogether devastatingly alluring. "Why, hello," he managed to return in greeting. He walked in, shutting the door behind him, but didn't move beyond that. "And to what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you tonight?"

"Well," she began lowly, her hand dropping to the tie and then stretching out so its silky length ran between her fingers, "I bought you a gift, but I wasn't quite certain how to wrap it, so I just decided to wear it for you instead." Her heart was beating, hoping that he was more pleased than alarmed that she had taken his key and broken into his apartment. She momentarily wondered if it was the action of an obsessed stalker rather than a girlfriend.

"A gift, huh? I think finding you here without begging you to come over is all the gift I'll ever need," he stated, the warmth of his voice melting her fearful insides. "But," he said in a sort of sigh, finally setting his briefcase and phone down and placing his hands on his hips, still only in silhouette, "since you went to all the trouble, I suppose I could at least thankfully accept what you so thoughtfully bought me." He had begun to slowly advance on her until he was close enough to see she only wore a white dress shirt over black panties. The heels made the necktie look unbelievably erotic.

Denny reached out a hand to take the tie between his fingers as she had. It slipped through them a ways, but near the end, his pinch on them tightened and he tugged it gently, pulling her forward. He leaned down to ghost his lips over hers.

"It's a lovely tie," he whispered. He could feel her shuddering breath, but waited for her to advance their kiss.

He didn't have to wait long as her hand grasped the back of his neck and her tongue swept against his slightly parted lips. The moment there was enough space, it delved into his mouth seeking to caress his own. Denny answered devotedly, happily following her lead, a sharp binding in his chest that she had fucking initiated this crazy, sexy scheme. Their ardor quickly spiraled up until he had grabbed her behind the back, pulling her to him. Alessa was lost in the growing passion, until his warm hands skimming across the bare skin of her stomach pulled her back to her purpose.

She reached down and took ahold of his wrists, pulling them away from her as she began angling him backwards to take several steps toward his favorite leather chair. Her lips never left his until she had him in position. She murmured his name against his lips, and when he didn't immediately respond, but instead made to reach back for her, she pulled her mouth away and took a step back though she still held his wrists at his sides.

"Uh-uh, not if you want the second part of your gift," she chastised with a daring and slightly shy glint.

Denny was breathing more harshly, but he managed to rein in his lust. "And just what is the second part?"

"Sit down and I'll show you."

Denny turned his head to realize she had positioned in front of his chair. On either side, the side tables held almost a dozen or more candles collectively, gently illuminating this obviously special spot. He reached back for the padded arm rest and eased himself into it, his eyes never leaving hers. Once seated, he couldn't help but eye her figure with a hungry gleam. He attempted to look at ease, but in truth he felt as if his body was tense enough to rip at the seams. 

"Well?" he asked with an expectant look in his eyes.

Alessa slowly bent down to place her hands on his knees, the shirt falling away from her torso as she did. Denny caught just a glimpse of the curve of a breast before she lowered herself to her knees. 

She continued to hold his gaze as her hands rubbed up and down his thigh, swirling occasionally, but always advancing a little more each time toward his groin.

"I've heard that men really, really like oral sex. And I was thinking, for as much as we've had sex, I've only done this once." She had grown shy in her speech, her eyes dropping and her face heating, but she forced herself to be brave and look up at him. The devastating hunger in his eyes made everything inside her liquefy. Her hand finally reached the now solid bulge in his dress pants and, not breaking her gaze she squeezed it firmly. 

While his expression darkened, his chest expanded swiftly as he sucked in a lungful of air. Though her first touches were basic and tentative grasping, eventually she began a slow rhythm to squeeze and rub, the pleasure building steadily. In due time, her fingers unfastened the button and unhurriedly eased the zipper down. Reaching through the slit at the front of his boxers, she closed her fingers around his hot shaft, liking for the first time the word 'cock.'

Pulling it free, Alessa looked back up at Denny and gave a small smile at the pleasure-pained expression on his handsome face. It was such an inspiring, erotic vision, his tumescent flesh pulsing hotly in her hand, begging to be stroked and teased and tasted until he erupted with the pleasure she provided.

Alessa felt swirling inside her a strange combination of the power she held over his most private, sensation-heady body part and the utter desire to simply worship it and bring him pleasure. She watched her fingers squeeze and stroke, memorizing wrinkles and veins and curves, and then she shifted herself forward, leaning into his lap to touch her tongue to the smooth head.

The silky texture shouldn't have been surprising, but it was, and she couldn't help but love it instantly. She gave several gentle, tentative licks, not even slowing when her pink tongue lapped up the small amount of liquid beaded at the very tip of the head. She wondered if the rest of his ejaculate would taste the same, and wondered if she would be able to swallow as she had originally intended.

After kissing and licking in a reverential manner, she at last engulfed the smooth, fat tip, sucking on it as she might a lollipop. The move drew a small groan from him, which in turn stirred her own arousal in her slicken sex. Alessa played with the action, allowing it to slide in her vacuum-like mouth before pulling back slightly to cause it to pop free. She knew the aim was to take him as deeply as possible, but she encouraged herself that as it was her first time, she didn't have to be as good as a professional, only good enough to get him off. 

Denny was in heaven. Her mouth felt divine, the most unexpected, most welcomed surprise of a lifetime, and what she lacked in complicated techniques, she more than made up for with her beautiful desire to please, her evident enjoyment and lust for him.

With her left hand she steadied herself as she leaned into him while her right grabbed the base of his shaft where her lips were unable to go. She began to work up and down, taking him as deeply into her mouth as she could, then pulling off, her squeezing hand following.

Her stomach fluttered as she remembered what she had uncovered in countless writings and tellings of the great fellatio; it's all about eye contact. Not breaking her developing rhythm, she angled her head and cast her eyes upward. She moaned involuntarily at the overwhelming arousing affect staring into his eyes had on her, causing her now aching sex to clench in desperate anticipation. She saw the flicker in his eyes, the telling sign he was speared with just as much pleasure, if not more.

Continuing her suckling rhythm while her hand worked his shaft and scrotum, she allowed her eyes to communicate to him just how fucking much she wanted him, how proud she was that he was her boyfriend, how much she cared for him, wanted him. How completely she was his.




Trivial Pursuits Ch. 18



Denny reached out a hand, and as she pulled him closer and closer to the screaming edge, he ran his fingers through her tousled hair, sweeping it to the side out of her eyes. The caress was tender and loving and so full of praise. 

"I'm so fucking lucky," he husked, aching to tell her how much she meant to him. "And you are so beautiful with your lips around my cock." Alessa's gaze fluttered a moment before she seemed to refocus her powerful efforts.

He groaned when he felt a ripple shoot through him, a quiver and a clenching of his stomach. He could feel his climax coming as she nursed on him demandingly. "Sweetheart," he panted, attempting to control it, to stave it off to enjoy her molten mouth just a little longer. But he knew he should warn her, knew he shouldn't just assume she would be okay with him ejaculating in her mouth, especially the first time. "Fuck, Sweetheart, you better pull back if you don't-oh, god," he groaned when she only seemed to grow in fervor, her eyes never leaving his.

Her intent was clear. He would come, and she would take it all. For a moment, he felt a slip of hesitancy cut through him, but it was burnt away by the fire in her gaze. And then he could hold back no more. With a series of growls, his fingers grasping the brown locks of hair that he had once been caressing, Denny came sharply, powerfully. Alessa choked after the third spurt, trying her hardest to swallow without thinking, without making a big deal about it, but there was just so much and the flavor was rather heady. In the end, though she swallowed most of it, some drizzled out of her mouth. As a glob reached her chin and threatened to drip onto his new tie, his hand darted forward, and wiping it with a finger, he fed her the last bit, saving his new gift. 

Denny lay back panting, his grip loosened to run his fingers through her silky hair once more while his eyes closed and honey like lightning swirled through him. She didn't stop playing with his cock, which was slowly softening, kissing and licking and stroking it with as much fascination as adoration. When his harsh breathing slowed and neared a normal rate, he opened his eyes and looked down at her. 

"Come, here, Sweetheart," he whispered, holding his hand out to pull her up to him. He settled her on his lap, her thighs straddling his. He cupped her behind the neck, pulling her down for a kiss. When he pulled away, he took a deep, sexually satisfied breath and sighed out in complete relaxation. "You are amazing. You know that? I'm the luckiest guy in the world," he praised. 

He was smiling up at her, his limp staff touching her bare thighs. He reached up to finger a few strands of hair away from her face, the tips then stroking her cheek before skimming down her neck. A finger caught in the black loop of the tie.

"So, a gift, huh?" he questioned lazily. "Is there more to this gift?" he asked with a cheeky smile, sliding a solitary finger down the front of the parted shirt, his eyes darting as if to peek naughtily around it to her naked flesh beneath.

She chuckled. He thought it was a sultry, confident sound. Her true voice. "Maybe. But first, dinner. Come on, let's eat before it dries out," she instructed leaning down to kiss him. Though she had meant it to be quick, he cupped her cheeks, holding her to him, opening her mouth to delve inside, and so she allowed it, unable to deny him anything. Even if she wanted to.

When a hand slipped under her shirt to caress her bare skin, she giggled and twisted away, at last pulling her mouth from his and sliding quickly off his lap. "No, if we start that we'll never get to food," she explained with a smile in her voice as she walked to the kitchen. "Sit down at the table," she called from the other room.

With a sigh, Denny tucked himself back into his pants, zipping up and walking leisurely toward the table. He smiled at how beautifully it was already set, the glowing candles setting a surprisingly romantic atmosphere he wouldn't have anticipated from her. There was a bottle of red wine on the table and two empty glasses. Taking the cue, he uncorked the bottle and poured before sitting in his seat. He could hear her rustling in the kitchen, clinking dishes and utensils. He even heard a sigh of contentment. 

And then she brought out two plates. Denny smiled at the delicious presentation. "And what is this dish?" he asked, inhaling the mouth-watering aroma.

"Osso buco over creamed polenta. I would have opted for the buttered egg noodles, but I thought they'd either get sticky or mushy."

"Looks delicious," he complimented.

She gave a conciliatory cock of her head. "Well, I ordered it. Didn't make it."

Denny smiled, nodding. "Still is a sweet gesture. Thank you," he said and then leaned forward across the corner of the table to kiss her. She reciprocated, leaning and giving him a quick peck. 

"Well, I was inspired. I wanted to do something for you since you're always planning things for me."

Denny smiled devilishly at her between bites. "And you were inspired to buy me a tie?" he asked and reached for the black silk still hanging around her neck.

She looked down at her plate and smiled shyly, her blush visible even in the dim candle light. "Well," she was doing that cute, shoulder roll, as if she were trying to wipe her ear on it. She cleared her throat and looked up, "I wanted you to wear a piece of me tomorrow when you're sitting there with all the higher ups."

He leaned over again, taking her by the neck and pulling her to him, his mouth devouring her, tasting the pork and the wine on her tongue. Alessa wanted to forget the meal, to sit on his lap and ride him until she came over and over. But he eventually pulled away, allowing her to finish the food on her plate. She shifted uncomfortably on her chair, feeling her panties flood.

"So, the key?" he mentioned with a smile.

She smiled, guiltily, but fluttered her gaze up to him. She chuckled, "Yeah, well, I wanted to surprise you. You don't mind, do you?"

He shook his head. "Hell, you can break in anytime if you promise to always do that."

"Yeah, well..." but she couldn't say more, her cheeks too pink, her throat too tight. The rest of the meal was filled with light banter, discussion of some work, but also other things they'd respectively seen in the news or heard on the radio. When they were finished, she cleared the plates, rinsing them off in the sink, before returning.

Denny was still sitting in his chair, but he had moved away somewhat. His leg was crossed and he looked satiated and powerful. "Come here," he commanded, stirring things alive inside her. Suddenly very aware of only being in his unbuttoned shirt and panties and the incredible black heels, she sauntered to him with as much sleek confidence as she could manage. She stopped just before her legs toughed his, knowing he hadn't called her over to sit in her chair.

"Closer," he beckoned, confirming he wanted her as near as possible, just not on his lap.

She took a step and half, arranging her thighs around one of his, the top of her outer thigh pressing against his arm rest. Denny lifted his hand and reached out a single finger to caress the bare flesh just below the hem of the white shirt. For a second he seemed content to draw lazy shapes on her skin, before moving up under the fabric. And then it hit the line of her lace panties.

"These are pretty," he murmured.

She bit her bottom lip. "They're new, too," she managed to respond.

"So they're mine?" He felt her shudder beneath his finger.

"Yes," she breathed.

His finger trailed across the lace until he felt the discernable crease of her slit. He moved the solitary finger down, noting with satisfaction the wet heat soaking the new panties. Alessa closed her eyes as her lips parted in lust-filled sigh. And then he took his pleasing finger away.

"Take them off," he commanded, his voice graveled with desire.

Her hands skimmed delicately up her thighs, catching the shirt fabric to hook her thumbs under the top of her new black panties. Knowing it was a show, knowing it was for his pleasure just as much as the blowjob had been, she took her time easing them down, undulating her hips in a seductive rhythm side to side, until they were down around the tops of her thighs, loose and incidental. Taking her hands from their job, the shirt dropped back in place, and in the shadow of the shirt, the now bared juncture of her thighs was obscured tantalizingly.

Denny's eyes slid up to hers. She blinked but didn't look away, a slow smile spreading her full mouth just before she bit her bottom lip in a teasing, seductive look. She then continued to shimmy her legs until the black lace fell silently to the floor. For a moment, the two just looked at each other, staring in dare. When Denny was satisfied she wasn't going to balk, he slowly stood up, the tips of his fingers gliding up her skin. 

When he stood before her, his hands continued trailing up her body, sliding under the shirt languidly. But then, in a surprising move, he grabbed her under the arms and lifted her up, setting her up on the table. Alessa's legs bent around his, pulling him into her. And though she wished to be devoured like their meal, he arched away from her, a hand going gently to her neck, holding her for his inspection. He pushed her until she was forced to place her hands on the table behind her to keep herself up right, but still she held against him, letting him turn her head this way and that.

Once he seemed satisfied, his hand trailed back down her body, grazing over the curves of her breasts, causing her nipples to harden with the light caress. Alessa shuddered, her breath ragged. 

And then Denny descended on her, cupping her cheeks and forcing his tongue into her mouth. It was a frantic claiming, a quick removal of his erection from his pants, her hips yanked closer to the edge of the table until they almost hung off, and then the swift impaling, the embedding of his need into hers. She cried out in pleasure, clinging herself to him. They kissed as frantically as he thrust into her, each seeking their own gratification as well as the other's. 

When Denny knew he would get there more quickly, he reached down to find Alessa's clitoris, stimulating it enough to drive her forward in the race to climax. She clawed his back while she grunted in pleasure. He was leaving her no room to escape from the spine-snapping pleasure. Not that she wanted to. At last, with long, forceful thrusts, Alessa careened tightly, her body curling tightly into him as she screamed into his mouth. At last satisfied with her own turbulent release, Denny followed her, coming deeply inside. A few hip jerks and rolls, arms grasping and tightening around the other, harsh breath beating the air, and a thousand webs of electricity flickering across their skins. 

Given some amount of indiscernible time, they recovered enough that Denny disengaged their flesh, and scooping her into his arms said, "I love the tie."



Trivial Pursuits Ch. 19



Dear Readers,

Thanks for all the support through voting, feedback, and emails I've received. I love hearing from you all, so please don't hesitate to let me know what you thought of the story. Thanks once again to AlreadyTaken for her endless support and editing skills.

Enjoy!

Titania

******

CHAPTER NINETEEN





Trivial Pursuits Ch. 19



He could only stand with his mouth agape as she fumed. He pulled her up against him, and cupping her cheek said, "Sweetheart, your family is fucked up."

She let out an angry sigh. "Tell me about it."

He smiled softly, his thumb caressing her lips. And just like that, he had morphed the flame of anger into a heat of a different kind. "Come on," he said, not willing to satisfy her yet, "like I've said, we've got a date."

"We have? Where?"

But he only frog marched her off toward his car. When they slid in, he took an appraising look at her before snatching the apricot colored scarf she wore around her neck.

"Hey," she exclaimed, confused.

He only clucked his tongue at her in reprimand, explaining nothing about his intentions. He quickly folded the scarf over and over until it was an adequate makeshift blindfold. "Turn around," he instructed, indicating with a nod of his head that she was to face her window.

Her confused, disbelief made her lips pucker and though he wished to kiss them, he stayed resolute, indicating again for her to turn. Eventually, she rolled her eyes and did as instructed, keeping up the pretense that she was put out, while secretly thrilling at the prospect of submitting to whatever he had planned. Denny secured the scarf, and when she turned back to settle in her seat, he checked to make sure it blocked everything out.

"Now, no matter what-no matter what-you are not to take that off and you will do exactly as I say. Understood?"

He watched her pretty mouth draw up in a disgruntled pout. "Understood?" he asked with a hard edge to his voice.

He waited as her chest heaved slowly in and out with deep breaths of displeasure. She finally nodded once. Satisfied, he turned, fired up his car, and sped away.

On the short drive over, he watched her try to sense where they were headed. To distract her, and prepare her, he began to draw delicate, abstract lines on the skin of her knee, lazy little caresses that first made her jump, but then quickly aroused her. He wanted to chuckle at the little noises she made, but didn't want to ruin the effect of the silent car and the drive in the makeshift dark.

Alessa's first clue as to their destination was the distant clanging of bells that tolled with the rhythm of waves. The seagulls called in their distinct, squawking voice, and the biting salty sea air filled her nose as she took a deep breath, trying to place it all by smell. They were near the water. At first she wasn't alarmed, but when Denny took her by the hand and led her through a locked metal gate that she could hear him disarm, realization dawned. And then he led her down a sharp decline, the hard surface beneath her feet rocking as solid earth shouldn't. 

She stopped abruptly, pulling against his hand. "Denny, you are not taking me on that boat," she declared, panic beginning to surge up in her chest.

Instantly, his warm voice in her ear shushing her, his comforting, but insisting hand at her back. 

"Sweetheart, trust me?"

The shake of her head was quick, panicky. 

"Have I ever led you astray? Ever not been good to you?" His mouth grazed the shell of her ear, his hot breath billowing down the slope of her vulnerable neck. "Trust me," he whispered, and then kissed her mouth.

A fine tremor filled her body as she allowed him to guide her down the steep plank to the dock. The creaking boards beneath their feet sagged occasionally, water sloshing as the force pushed the boards down, and with each uncertain step she felt her stomach drop. She buoyed along between fear and trust, as though she were skipping from cloud to cloud, upheld by the sweet and intangible, but if she paused too long, would become heavy and sink like lead into terrored black.

After what felt like hours of marching down an endless unknown with a short turn to the right, Denny told her to stop and stand still. She felt him bound from her side, the panic returning instantly, but his voice was there, calling from in front of her but from higher somehow. 

"Alessa, give me your hands. Raise them up high."

Trembling, she did as instructed and shrieked in dismay when he took ahold of her wrists and lifted her high in the void. She crashed against him, arms clinging for dear life, nearly sobbing at the terror of knowing she was on his boat, that she could see nothing, and that she had no control in anything.

He was there, cupping her face, shushing her with murmured praise as his lips comforted her with tender, aching kisses. "Sweetheart, I have you. You're safe with me." And then he was kissing her in earnest, pouring into her all his promise to hold her and protect her and guide her from the fears mercilessly strangling her. When her hands were grasping his shoulders, not to hold onto something solid in the water, but in need to be as close as mortally possible to him, he gently pulled back from her, his thumb running along the wetness of her bottom lip.

"Now, I'm sure, much to your relief, we're not actually putting out today. I have something...else in mind for us. But..." Denny paused, contemplating the right words.

"Hm?" she prodded, the fine shiver returning.

"I want to...do things to you, but I need your permission," he stated quietly, hating the connotation, but knowing it was the most accurate.

"Permission?" she repeated, pulling away in uncertainty.

"I want you to agree to let me have the control. To do whatever I say. Allow whatever I want."

Her body was writhing uncomfortably away from his embrace. "Allow you what? What do you want to do?"

He held her tighter. "Nothing you won't enjoy. Can you trust me? Please?"

There was such sincerity in his voice, such need for her trust. It struck a sparkling warmth in the pit of her stomach, for its strength and likeness echoed her own need to give him her trust. She lifted her blinded face.

"Yes," she answered, her eyes closed even though they were covered, "I trust you." She meant to say more, to tell him more, but when she felt his warm lips against her trembling ones, she knew there was nothing more to say.

"That's my girl," he murmured as he pulled away. "This way, Sweetheart," he informed her, taking her by the hand and leading her along the deck. At various points, he had to instruct her to wait while he stepped down the obstacle and turned back to help her down as well. Once they were down in the hull of the boat, he took her by the shoulders and, walking behind her, instructed Alessa to put her hands on the walls to help guide her. She had to duck down as they went through a small corridor that seemed to run the length of the boat. She stumbled as they emerged somewhere, but his hand caught her, keeping her upright and safe. 

He released her to stand on her own. "Okay, Sweetheart, take off your clothes."

The breath rushed out of Alessa's body, but her trembling hands slowly lifted to do as bid. She had finally become comfortable undressing before him, feeling more aroused than embarrassed now that she had done it too many times to count. But the blindfold, keeping her from watching him watch her, added another layer of excitement laced with unease. She was vulnerable once again.

Down to her underwear, she hooked her thumbs in the fabric and pulled them down, taking the time to wiggle back and forth in attempt to be as provocative as possible. When she had stepped out of them at last, she stood waiting for his touch or next set of instructions, but nothing came. 

The rhythm of the boat's gentle undulation was heightened by her lack of sight, forcing her to steady herself quietly. The only other sensation was the sound of Denny behind her, his breathing slow and steady, and as she stood naked and blind before him, all the other sounds of the marina drifted away until the only thing that existed in her world was his breath and the waves beneath her feet.

Her body jerked slightly when the pads of his fingers and thumb touched her skin, calling back the tremor that had once existed because of fear. Her nipples instantly hardened as his fingers stroked an adoring path from her shoulder blade down her spine to the side of her hip. She felt herself lean into him, wanting so much more of his touch. But he pulled his hand away.

"Sweetheart, take a step forward and crawl up on the bed."

The instruction pulled her from her reverie, reminding her that he had a plan for her, a design that had required her permission. She reached her hands forward to feel for the bed, and when her hand felt the wooden frame and softer mattress, her mind pieced together what the set up must have looked like. She surmised that the bed was actually a part of the boat, built into it, as there was a step up to it as well as a built in bench at the foot of it that she had to step up on in order to get on the high mattress. She at first tried to sit down on the bed and scoot up, but he quickly corrected her, stating he had instructed her to crawl onto the bed. Again, the thought of being naked before him and unable to see anything made her feel awkward and vulnerable, so when she went to obey, she moved in such a way that she kept her thighs together, hopefully shielding what she could of her sex.

But Denny had other plans, and when a strong hand quickly grasped her ankle, keeping her from moving farther up on the bed, she stilled, knowing exactly what he was going to say.

"Spread your legs."

She was slow to obey and received a sharp, unexpected smack on her right cheek. "Ow!" she protested, her head jerking around though she couldn't see anything. The sting spread out to a glowing warmth.

"Stop stalling," he reprimanded.

She huffed indignantly, but was quick to obey. Her face flushed when she felt cool air along her slit, which surprisingly was already very wet. She assumed the best indicator of whether or not she was aroused by what he did was how wet it made her rather than what her mind's reaction to it was.

"Good girl," he praised, causing that familiar warmth in her stomach to blossom. She bit her lip, wondering why she liked his approval so much. His hand was rubbing where he had spanked her bottom, somehow soothing the ache although it simultaneously hurt. "Now, don't move." And then his hand was gone as she heard him walk away. She listened as his footsteps faded from the room and clanked down the hall off to some other place on the boat.

Denny adjusted himself, smirking at how incredibly hard he already was just from watching her kneel naked on his bed and thinking on what he was going to do to her. He was thankful he had just bought new Sta-Set rope for one of the tarps, and pulled it from the storage space beneath the stairs. He had already planned out in his mind how he was going to tie her, knowing which knots were needed and what length would be required. He reached for the utility knife and measured out a length. He sighed as he applied the blade and slowly cut through the new, supple rope, knowing he would now have to buy another one. 

Denny stepped into his room smiling in pleasure that Alessa was still in the position he had left her. Her head cocked to the side when he entered, listening for an indication of what he was going to do. She was so delectable in the position that he could have happily fucked her right as she was, but he knew this wasn't about him or quick gratification. 

"Get up off your hands, but stay on your knees. And watch your head," he warned coming to stand behind her. She pushed up slowly, raising a hand above her head as she lifted up. She had to duck her head to the side in order kneel upright. When she was comfortable with her balance, her hand dropped back to her side.

"Now put your hands behind your back and grasp on to your elbows," he instructed. She cautiously complied, bringing her hands behind her. Touching her other wrist, Alessa drew her hands along until her forearms laid one on top of the other and her hands clutched the opposite elbows. The position forced her chest out, and in apprehension she tightened her stomach as the sailboat surged docilely on the water.

Without further words, Denny took one of the newly cut ropes and began tying her in place. He laid a length along her forearms and then wound it around them back to the beginning. He then tied it off, completing the heaving line knot. He watched with another smirk as she tried to pull her arms free but stilled when she knew the rope wasn't giving.

Denny then took the end of the second rope and tied it to her right ankle. He took the third rope and tied it the same to the other ankle. He then took the left rope and threaded it through the handle that was attached to the wall. Pulling it through, he tied the end off around her left elbow, effectively binding her loosely to the wall. He did the same to the rope on the right ankle, binding her to herself. He then reached up to sweep her thick hair over her left shoulder. Satisfied with the set up, he slowly but determinedly pushed her down while holding onto a hip. She ended up with her left cheek and just the top of her chest laid on the bed, but her butt stuck up in the air. The increased length between her elbows and ankles pulled the rope tight and spread her feet even farther apart. 

Alessa whined in embarrassed discomfort, not certain if she liked the position in which she was now placed. It was certainly erotic in a lewd and helpless sort of way that she had frequently fantasized about, but again she felt vulnerable and a little disgusting. She remembered the night he made her sit spread before herself in the mirror, watching his fingers disappear inside. Her body clenched tight at the memory, knowing what she must look like spread before him now. She waited, but like before, he did nothing.

When the uncertainty became too much, she wiggled her bottom in an effort to find a less compromising position, but the ropes attached to her ankles only pulled painfully on her elbows and wouldn't allow her legs to budge an inch. "Denny, what are you doing?" she asked, hoping to prod him along. But he didn't answer. Again she tried moving, but still was unsuccessful. "Denny, please do something."

No answer.

"Denny, stop staring and just fuck me already."

Nothing.

"Denny, I don't like this. I want to stop." She waited. "I mean it. This isn't fun. I don't like being tied up. I want you to let me go." 

He remained silent.

Alessa felt the panic rise. "Denny! I mean it," she said with fear beginning to creep in her voice. She started to pull at the ropes to kneel back up, but it only caused her legs to spread farther apart, defeating her purpose. And finally, when she began thrashing, full panic flooding her mind, she felt a warm hand at her back and his sweet, soothing voice in her ear.

"Sweetheart, stay calm."

"I don't want to stay calm. I want you to let me go. I don't like this," she repeated.

"What don't you like?" he asked softly, his hand stroking down her back. 

"Being tied up, of course," she answered acerbically.

"Hm," he responded ponderously. His hand caressed her back, running down and over the curve of her bottom. Alessa scowled and bit her bottom lip as his fingers slid between her parted lips, knowing her pleasure was obvious. He worked his fingers up and down, spreading the copious amount of her fluid onto the outer folds. "But your body does," he observed, the evidence of her arousal now thickly coating his fingers.

"I don't care. I don't want to do this anymore," she growled.

"Remember you promised to let me do whatever I wanted," he reminded her. When she huffed angrily in concession, he pressed on. "What don't you like?" 

She was silent a moment. "I don't like not being able to move. I don't like being helpless."

"You don't like being trapped," he stated.

"No," she agreed, shaking her head.

"You want to escape?"

She nodded vehemently. 

"But why? There's no need; you're okay, even when you're not in control," he observed. "Just because you can't move doesn't mean you're in danger. Doesn't mean you have to leave. You're safe with me."

Alessa breathed harshly as she thought about what he said. He was right, ultimately; nothing bad was going to happen to her just because she couldn't move, but she still didn't like it, couldn't feel comfortable with not being able to move whenever she wanted. And she didn't like being at his mercy. She said so.

"And why is that? Do you think I'd hurt you?"

The idea was ludicrous, she knew; Denny wouldn't hurt her. Not ever. Not for any reason. It took her conscious acceptance of that fact to feel a little better. If no harm would come to her, then she could relax, at least for a short time. 

Denny seemed to sense the change that went through her, the hand that had been stroking her back feeling the relaxation in her body. "Good girl," he murmured, loving to witness her gaining strength right before his eyes. His hand wandered back down, finding with proprietary knowledge the sensitive spots in her folds that made her moan and push her hips back into his hand.

"Even though you're trapped, you're safe. With me, only good things are going to happen. Promise," he whispered, placing a kissing at the nape of her neck. He began stroking her deeper inside, a driven and purposeful touch beyond exploration and arousal. First one finger then a second found their way into her tight cavern, instantly hitting the small field of sensitive nerves that lit her whole body on fire. Denny watched the flush spread over her body as he rubbed and tapped the spot against her pubic bone. Her growing moans indicated his touch would soon be enough to send her careening over the edge into a powerful orgasm. And just before the moment arrived, he pulled his fingers free, leaving her body clenching desperately for him.

"Denny!" she moaned in agony when he didn't immediately replace his fingers with anything else.

"Patience, Sweetheart," he shushed her with a kiss to the top of her spine before trailing his adoring mouth down her back, which was now covered in a thin sheet of sweat. He maneuvered around her bound forearms, biting the tender flesh on the underside of her arms with the sharp edge of his teeth. He found a finger and sucked it into his mouth, and much to his gratification pulled an agonized moan from her quivering lips. He swirled his tongue around her digit, stroking lightly in reminder of what else his talented tongue could do. With intense pressure, he pulled back, drawing blood to the tip before he nipped at it, causing her breath to catch.

Alessa squeezed her eyes tight, her sex throbbing just as acutely as the finger he had just suckled in torture. When she realized she was grinding her hips up into the air, her open and weeping slit seeking gratification, she collapsed down with a frustrated growl. 

"Ah-ah-ah, my sweet," Denny rebuked softly, "No quitting." He took her by the hips and readjusted her so her bottom stayed high in the air, open and vulnerable.

"Please stop toying with me," she pleaded, her body now in pain from the denied orgasm.

"I told you to stop trying to escape, to finish it. You have to learn to endure," he whispered, positioning himself near her head.

"Hm?" she questioned, not understanding in her haze of frustrated sexual need.

"You run every day, even when it's painful, right?" he asked, reminding her of one of the reasons she enjoyed her nightly runs. Conquering the pain.

"Yes," she breathed.

"You're stronger for it, for being more powerful than the pain, right?"

"Yes."

"You don't try to escape it or avoid it. This is the same. You want to come. You need to come, but when you stay in control, when you stay focused even when you're trapped and get what you want, you're stronger for it. Understand?" he asked gently, placing more kisses to her sweaty neck as his hand returned to the crease of her bottom, sliding in between the plump folds.




Trivial Pursuits Ch. 19



She whimpered at the thought of what was to come, but focused her mind, as she did so many times on her runs. Denny heard the deep and calming breath she took, and then began circling the pads of his fingers around the turgid little nubbin at the crux of her sex. It didn't take long for the rhythm of her breath to speed up, for soft moans to fall from her lips as her hips began curling in and out with the strokes of his hand. 

Denny decided to notch up the pleasure, as well as satisfy his own starving mouth. While his hand played on her pussy, his mouth found the side of her jaw and her ear, and with ravenous kisses, tantalized Alessa even further. She tried to turn her head even more, tried to offer her mouth to his, but the angle made it too difficult, and so she was left to only bite her bottom lip in disappointment.

Her breath was heavy and fast, and she could feel the swell inside of her once more. She was half torn between relaxing into his ministrations to allow for the possibility of orgasm and resisting the driving power altogether. When her lower abdominals tensed, her inner walls clenching to muffle the sensations and she held her breath to focus on not being driven to the edge.

Well aware of exactly what she was doing, Denny whispered in her ear. "Aw, no no no, Sweetheart. Don't fight it. Do you take the easy routes? Or do you run the hills?" he asked, again reminding her of the torture she willingly endured on her runs. Alessa thrilled at pushing herself to the limit and overcoming. Here could be no different. 

With a fearful whimper, she did as he wished, and relaxed her body to the increasing pleasure. It was less than a minute more when he withdrew his hand. Now aware of the purpose of this little encounter, Alessa only breathed out in controlled, forceful exhalations, allowing her conscious mind to absorb the pain in her sex and stomach and focus on navigating through the buzzing of her body. She lay there with arms bound tightly behind her back, eyes blindfolded, head laying on the left side, and butt in the air, panting and burning and trembling. She needed so much, but she knew Denny was giving her this opportunity to become stronger, to dig deep and become more than she had been before.

Denny watched her tremble in unfulfilled desire, watched her fingernails bite viciously into the skin of her forearms, and knew she was fighting for tranquility, wrestling to accept the pain and bear up under it heroically. 

"You're so strong," he stated softly, petting her dark hair away from her neck, straightening the wisps that were damp from her sweat. "There's so much pain, but you don't let it stop you. It doesn't break you," he praised. His hands were wandering over her skin again, slowly fanning the little sparks of need still crackling not only on the surface of her body, but deep within.

"You remind me of Atlas," he commented idly, mesmerized a moment with watching a droplet of sweat stagger from where her forearms folded over her back, making its way haltingly down the various planes of her back created by the muscles around her spine and shoulder blade.

"Do you know the story?" he asked a moment before her leant forward to run the tip of his tongue to sweep the beaded moisture up.

She swallowed hard. "The Titan? Who holds up the sky?"

"That's the one," he whispered. "Because he was on the losing side, he was punished to uphold the heavens; to keep the sky from joining the earth once more. He is the great endurer. No matter the ache, no matter the pain, he is strong enough to up-hold it all." And then his fingers were once again sliding deep into the swollen tissue of her body.

Alessa moaned, vaguely wondering if she was as strong as Denny claimed. She certainly didn't feel like a Titan, didn't want to live past the pain, but rather needed to surrender to his talented hands and come sweetly. Unlike the two previous times, Denny didn't seem driven to bring her to the edge. His touch was something more considerate, more thoughtful and inquisitive. 

However, despite the lack of focus, his fingers eventually had stirred her passion enough that she could feel something deep begin to roll within her, preparing itself to stretch and turn inside out. Denny moved at the change of her pleading voice, coming to kneel behind her. Alessa's passage pulled in tightly at the prospect that he was finally getting ready to enter her. 

"You can withstand anything," he stated again, his free hand roaming soothingly over her. "You may be trapped, but you aren't powerless."

And then the hand buried in her began moving with determination and purpose, his two fingers swirling around the aching little nub while his thumb pressed and circled on the more hidden of the sensitive places inside her tight passage. The pleasure was too much too fast, and her already aroused and needy flesh was quickly taken back to the precipice, ready to drench his hand in her climax. But once more, much to the dismay of the murderous ache in the pit of her stomach, Denton pulled his hand away before she came.

Alessa cried out, her passage unconsciously clenching, grasping for something. Perhaps if she squeezed those inner muscles enough, the self-applied pressure would be sufficient to push her that millimeter more over the edge. And then she felt something hot and round pressed at the aching entrance of her body. Her hips instinctively push back against him, aiming to impale herself on him, but his biting fingers at her hips held her in place.

"Say it. Tell me even if you're trapped you're not at the mercy of another. You don't need to escape to survive," he instructed, his need to be buried in her evident in the strain in his voice.

Her voice was tremulous and half filled with moans, but she complied with his unyielding command. "I have the strength. I can survive—"

And then his hardened length was inside, forging its way almost violently into her body. Alessa only needed two strokes before her body drew up in a painful spasm, the orgasm pulling her inward on herself as ribbons of silky pleasure threaded through every possible nerve in her body. Denny used the fierce fluttering of her vaginal walls to help pull him over the edge with her. He rammed quickly into her quaking, writhing body until his shaft tightened deliciously at the base, and as he erupted deep inside her he growled ferociously, the pleasure like none other. He rode her through the endless wave of delirium that seemed to fling him heavenward.

Collapsing in a heaving shudder, Denny screwed his eyes tight as the euphoria seemed to fall violently yet delicately all over him. At some point his softening flesh slid from her, and for several minutes they could only lie askew and tangled on their sides. Limp and utterly satiated.

When Denny had the wherewithal, he opened his eyes and his fingers dumbly found the knots holding Alessa contorted like some sort of Léger painting. As the knots came loose and limbs were freed, her body pooled lifeless onto the mattress. He then untied the scarf around her eyes and watched for indications of her mood. Her look was dazed, and so he simply scooped her up and turned them to lay with their heads on the pillows. Before Denny settled in for the nap that was calling to him, he sat up and popped open the large hatch directly above them.

With the cool breeze rushing in like a giant sigh of relief, Denny lay back down and turned to cradle her head. As soon as the bay air ran over her damp skin, Alessa shivered and snuggled back into Denny. He reached for the throw at the foot of the bed and draped it over them.

"Wanna put your clothes back on?"

She yawned and shook her head, not caring enough to open her eyes even though they were now no longer blindfolded.

He smiled softly as his fingertips eased strands of her hair from her forehead.

"Are you okay?"

She was silent several minutes, before she nodded in answer. 

"Do you want to talk about anything?"

Her eyes finally drifted open and looked ahead with that same dazed, distant look. "What did you mean?" she began, her voice nearly hoarse from her earlier cries. "When you talked about me being trapped but not escaping?"

Denny didn't answer, but waited patiently for her to work it out herself.

"You weren't just talking about that right then, were you? You were talking about something else?"

"What would that be?" he guided.

She sighed and closed her eyes again. "You think I escape my family."

He cocked a soft, sad half-smile. "Why do you think that?"

"Because you saw it. You witnessed me get angry and storm away."

"Yes," he mused, almost mockingly. "It was rather quite a good thing we didn't park in the drive or we would have been blocked in and you couldn't have escaped when you wanted."

"It's not escaping to leave when you know you've had enough."

"It is when you plan for it before it ever happens. When you have other choices but the only one you consider is just to leave. Without facing it."

"What's to face? My family thinks the worst things about me. I can't change that."

"Yes, that's rather a convenient thing to claim, especially when you've never attempted it."

"How would you know whether or not I've done anything?"

"Because I know you," he said softly, and drew her in tighter into his embrace. "Instead of facing it, you simply develop a way out. You make sure you're free to leave whenever you want. Whenever it becomes uncomfortable, you go to your car parked on the street and hightail it out."

"What if I do?"

"It changes nothing, Sweetheart. Instead of dealing with whatever is bothering you so you can fix it, you store it inside and take it out on the runs with you. You push your frustrations out of you in your sweat, but it doesn't solve the root of the problem. You run for the control you can't seem to get when you choose not to face those things. It's just a lie you tell yourself," he whispered emphatically. "And it just sets you up to be hurt again and again."

Alessa sighed and turned over in his arms, her hands coming together in front of her chest to unconsciously shield herself. "But nothing will change how Shelly treats me. And I don't want to create a big scene for Cadence's sake."

Denny's expression was relenting, understanding her dilemma. He agreed Alessa stepmother was unlikely to ever think anything kind of her. He pulled her tightly against his body, nestling her head under his chin. What infuriated him most was her oblivious father who had treated her plight with such inattention. Not only had he shattered her irreparably when he had left her mother—and her—but through his negligence, had left her to recover as best she could on her own, using maladaptive coping mechanisms like some sort of ineffective tape on shattered plaster. 

All things Japanese? Didn't the man even know his daughter?

Denny completely blamed Alex Allen for the difficulty he'd had in ever getting close to Alessa. But then he grimaced when he thought about his own dickish behavior those first few times he had met her, deciding that he was far from innocent in their rocky start. He could feel by her slowed breathing that she had fallen asleep, and as his own eyes drifted closed, Denny found himself vowing to hold her until all her pieces were together again.



Trivial Pursuits Ch. 20



Dear Readers,

To those of you who have chosen to return, thank you and I hope the wait has been worth it. For those of you interested, I have taken the time to respond to feedback from the last chapter at the end of this one, but you are by no means obligated to read. I thank everyone for their support, and as always, a great big thanks to AlreadyTaken and the time and effort she gives to edit and give a little advice. You're the best.

Enjoy,

Titania

******

CHAPTER TWENTY





Trivial Pursuits Ch. 20



She extended a hand in hopes of preempting another uncomfortable hug. No such luck. When he took her hand, it was only to pull her close and slap her on the back. "It's very nice to meet you," he stated, his Texan accent clear and somewhat surprising.

When she pulled back, she was better able to take in Denny's parents, the family resemblances apparent at once, especially between father and son. Though the man was in his late fifties, he was still attractive, and it was evident where Denny inherited his strong features and gloriously thick hair. Though Hollis' was now graying along the hairline and at the temples as well as his mustache and goatee, she knew his hair color must have once been the same as her boyfriend's. 

"Well, come in you two," he instructed with a large smile, evidently eager to welcome the younger couple. The front door opened into the spacious, two-story main living room that was banked with floor to ceiling windows all along the back of the house. Alessa imagined it was a glorious view of the mountains, but would have to wait until morning to see.

"We've held off on dinner for you. Are you guys hungry?" Pima asked.

"You know me, mom, I could always eat." He placed their bags on the floor before reaching nonchalantly for Alessa's hand, having witnessed her stiff and overwhelmed responses to the warm greetings. He gave her a reassuring squeeze, but kept his eyes on his parents.

"Okay, then. It's just a stew and some of your Granny River's bread."

"Sounds perfect," he answered, pulling Alessa along to the small eating area in the impressive kitchen. Pima pulled the enameled cast iron pot from the oven. Hollis helped her by tossing down a pot holder on the table for her to set it on. He brought over the bread and nodded to the two younger people to sit. As they were getting comfortable, Pima brought over drinks, asking Alessa if she cared for something besides water. Hollis took a beer and then started dishing out the stew into everyone's bowls.

"This is good, Mom."

"I don't know why it wouldn't be. Same recipe I've been using for years."

"After a drive like we've had, anything would taste delicious," Denny commented.

"Well thanks for that," Pima returned in mock-hurt.

"Not what I meant, Mom. But the drive was hell," he continued, referring to the nauseating traffic leaving the Bay. But a quick glance at Alessa, her face over her bowl was beet red. When Denny realized his error, he spoke quickly to clarify. "The traffic was a nightmare. As you can imagine on the holiday week. But once we cleared it, it was pleasant enough."

Alessa's eyes slid to him, catching his meaning and understanding he hadn't meant to imply anything regarding their time together in the car. 

"What time did you make?" 

"Oh, about three and a half hours. Might have been here sooner, but Alessa here couldn't stop working," he smiled, drawing her benignly into the conversation.

She placed her spoon down and looked up, trying to calm herself and join in the conversation like a civilized human being. "Well, you weren't complaining about my work ethic a few weeks ago when we were in Dallas. As I recall, you told the board I was invaluable," she defended smoothly, an almost teasing smile on her lips.

Denny chuckled. "I suppose that's true," he conceded.

"That's right," Hollis piped up finally. "Denny told us he was going down to Texas. Said he was taking his indispensable right-hand man," he added looking at Alessa with a grin. "How was it?"

Alessa smiled, almost uncomfortably, but managed to maintain a calm exterior. "It was quite a satisfying experience," she supplied. "Quite exciting, really, if you could look past the incredibly long, grueling hours that barely left time for a decent shower, let alone a life outside the office."

"And Alessa was my star team member. Her knowledge of the Korean market, as well as the language, really guided us through," Denny praised, smiling a little as he watched her blush though she tried to remain confident as always.

"Unlike the other case he handed me," she admitted with a smile of chagrin.

"Oh, what case was that?" Hollis asked, tearing off another piece of the bread.

"A civil defense case involving renter's' terms," she explained lamentably.

"Now that sounds interesting," Hollis said with a gleam in his eyes, pointing his shredded bread at her. "You and Denny can have your big Asian corporations. I'd take getting down to the nitty gritty with the little man any day," he declared.

"Though in all fairness, Alessa actually was brilliant with the case, even if she doesn't quite believe it," Denny informed them smiling.

"Yeah, well," but she really had nothing to say and so just took another bite of the chewy bread saturated in the brothy stew. In attempt to make conversation, she relayed that Denny had taken her out to their family's old property while they were in Dallas.

"Don't get him started on that," Pima scolded with a smile, dishing out more of the stew and passing it back to Denny. "He'll never stop. Hasn't ever forgiven me for making him move out here to take over my family's ranch." She smiled as she said this, a touch of sadness, a touch of irony in her voice.

"Law has always fascinated me," he confessed to Alessa. "I'd wanted this great life, this constant struggle to win over the system. But once I met this beautiful woman, saw how much this life meant to her, I couldn't pull her from the ranch. Couldn't drag her from the strays she loves so much."

"Strays?" Alessa asked, looking at Pima.

"Mom is a world-class finder and keeper of lost strays," Denny explained pointedly, with an expression of mock-disapproval.

"Oh, like you're one to talk," Pima stated. "Or have you forgotten Buger?"

"Buger?" Alessa asked bemused.

Denny sighed and then smiled. "Buger. An old racing horse. Bum leg. Owner wanted to put him down. I think even you thought it was best, if I recall correctly," he remarked to his mom. "But I convinced her to let me try to rehab him. He'd been abused," he stated with mild disgust. "Driven too hard, treated too roughly. Definitely a flighty, skittish thing. But also angry. Desperate to prove he was fierce. It wasn't easy: I was run into the rails plenty of times; bitten; nearly kicked, certainly bucked off. But in the end, I taught him to trust me, to let me close. He was never really fast again, but he ran, and he was proof that in the right hands you can heal and survive."

There was a moment of silence as the small party absorbed the truth in the words and the beauty of healing.

"It's been a good life," Hollis stated softly. "Don't regret staying at all." He eyed his wife meaningfully.

Eventually Pima turned her gaze toward their guest. "So, Alessa, tell us a little more about yourself," she requested before taking another bite of the stew.

Alessa was taken aback, but only a little, and then gathered together a perfunctory description she handed most people in similar situations. "I grew up in Walnut Creek, attended UC Berkley for both undergrad and law. I decided to work at The Asian Museum after graduation, wanting a little more experience before joining a major firm. I'd had my hopes set on Wiles, Mayer, and Schecter LLP since law school, but unfortunately, Denny was the hiring junior partner. We didn't really hit it off," she admitted with a mischievous smile.

"Really? That's unlikely. What was the problem?" Pima asked, finding it hard to believe her son wasn't instantly smitten with the young woman.

"Yeah, what was the problem?" Alessa asked in playful ignorance, a smile whispering at the corners of her mouth.

Denny opened his mouth to speak, but nothing was forthcoming. Finally, he let out a gush of air and held his arms up in a defeated shrugged. "What can I say, except that I must have been so impressed by you that I couldn't think straight. And clearly, without my brains I am an ass."

Everyone laughed. Pima spoke up. "Well, it must be genetics, because when your father and I first met, it was at this honkytonk there in Dallas. After we'd been talking for a time, he went back off to his group of guys and eventually another man came up and asked if I'd dance with him. I was really interested in Hollis," she reported, a fair amount of annoyance in her voice as she eyed her husband across the table, "but I couldn't see him in the smoky place, so I agreed. Well, it didn't take long, about two seconds after that man put his hands around my waist, your father came out of nowhere and slugged the man so hard he fell to the ground. Of course I was angry and embarrassed and annoyed. Why couldn't he have just stuck around and asked me to dance? Ah well, thankfully, he did a pretty good job apologizing and begged for a second chance. To which I relented."

"And aren't you glad you did?" Hollis asked, smiling and leaning forward on his elbows.

She chuckled. "I don't know. There may have been a day in there somewhere that I had second thoughts," she teased.

After dinner, the two couples retired to the living room in front of the fire. The Ashburys caught Denny up on all the latest happenings of their community, of high school friends who had moved away or moved back home or had children or got divorced. Alessa was snuggled up under his arm, and before long, the gentle murmur of conversation died into the background of her mind, and her eyes slowly slid closed. When Denny realized she had fallen asleep, he made his excuses to his parents and urged her awake. Smiling sheepishly, she said her goodnights as he took her by the hand and led her down a hall to a door in the back.

"Isn't your room in the house?" Alessa asked sleepily when she realized they were going outside.

"This house was built after I left home for college, so I really don't have a room here. Usually I'll take one of the guest rooms upstairs, but since you're here with me, we're going to stay out in the guest house. It's more private, the perfect space to retreat if you ever need time alone," he informed her, guiding her around a covered pool and down a winding path lit by small little lights hidden in the landscaping. 

The guest house was as big, if not larger than the entire garage she lived over, and its style made it a mini version of the house. It was an open space, a large bed angled to be adjacent to both the looming fireplace and the floor-to-ceiling windows. There was a small kitchenette area as well as a comfy looking sitting arrangement near the hearth, which was the centerpiece of the entire space. The river stones that it was comprised of rose all the way to the high ceiling, a striking visual metaphor to the strength of home and family, she thought. And on the floor in front of it lay a light-colored fur rug. A rather large ficus tree that was in actuality three small trees twined together, was threaded through with twinkle lights, and the whole scene was a rather charming one that made her feel instantly...at home.

Denny put their bags down on the luggage racks before picking up a tiny black remote and punched a button on it. Instantly, the fireplace lit, sending promise of warmth into the room with just its glow alone. He gave her a quick tour, which mainly consisted of pointing out which door was the bathroom and which was the closet, and informed her anything she could find in the kitchenette was fair game if she ever became hungry. He retrieved his Dopp kit and pajamas from his bag and headed to the bathroom. After changing and brushing his teeth, he tossed back the thick blankets and crawled into bed. He had pulled a file from his brief case and opened it, planning to read a bit of a contract before sleep.

Alessa followed suit, quickly undressing and washing her face clean of her makeup. Her nightgown was new, not much more than a slinky maxi tank that was cut in racerback fashion across her shoulder blades. When she slipped into the bed beside Denny, turning on her side away from him, he put his file down, switched off the lamp and curled into her, his arm sliding around her waist to hold her against him. Then they were silent, allowing the crackle of the fire to do all the speaking for them. Eventually, their eyes shut and they slept well.

In the early morning, Denny was stirred awake by a firm bottom pressing in slow rhythmic fashion against his morning erection. His hand went to her hips, not knowing if she was asleep or purposefully arousing him. But when she turned her face to him, her sultry gaze made it was clear she knew exactly what she was doing.

"Morning," she greeted, her voice husky with sleep.

Denny was still holding onto her gently undulating hips, not pulling away, not yet attacking, but biding his time until he learned her game. "Morning," he replied, his own groggy voice tinged with suspicion.

"Wanna cuddle me a little harder?" she invited, her lips finally breaking out into mischievous smile. And that was all it took to occupy their time for the next hour and half. They showered quickly together and joined his parents for breakfast, both content.

When Alessa entered the kitchen, Pima was gathering the ingredients for breakfast. 

"Anything I can help with?" she offered tentatively.

Pima turned and smiled at Alessa before walking over and placing an arm around her to squeeze her good morning. "Well, if you'd like. Denny requested French toast with the buttermilk syrup; it's his favorite breakfast. Do you know how to make the syrup?" Alessa simply shook her head. "Then let's see," Pima mused thoughtfully as she went to the counter to open an old oak box. Alessa saw tons of index cards inside that Pima quickly shuffled through until she said, "Aha! Here it is. Granny River's Buttermilk syrup."

She handed the card to the younger woman and informed her the butter and buttermilk were in the refrigerator and pointed out the cabinet the other ingredients were located in. "Feel free to make yourself at home," she invited as she left Alessa to make the rich syrup while she went back to the other breakfast items. "If you need anything, just ask."

While they cooked together, Pima kept up the conversation, asking Alessa more specifics about herself, listening to her stories of her little sister, even prying out of Alessa her mother's condition and the growing weight it was on her. And when they all sat down to eat, Alessa found herself watching the older woman with a budding affection, and a nascent need to absorb her strength and wisdom and love. Without thought, she quickly offered to help Pima with the cleanup, and found herself relaxing and finding peace in her kitchen and in her company.

Eventually, when everything was cleaned and put away, Denny invited Alessa on a tour of the ranch, but Pima stated they should all make a time of it. And so it was that the four of them wrapped in jackets, headed first toward the stables. Alessa was impressed as she witnessed Denny's ease with the horses, agreeing with his statement that he fit well into the context of both a boardroom and a ranch. 

As they went along, Denny shared memories of growing up on the ranch, detailing how his father had enlarged what he and Pima had taken over from her father. And Pima shared stories of the mischief Denny found himself in, or of a particular animal she rescued and nursed back to health. Alessa learned that Pima was in Dallas studying animal sciences when she met Hollis, and she now applied that knowledge to running one of northern California's largest livestock rehabilitation facilities, while Hollis made the ranch lucrative with cattle and sheep ranching.

When the tour was over, Denny challenged her to let him take her horse riding. At first she balked, but didn't want to seem squeamish in front of Pima and so accepted. Denny's parents left the two of them alone, and together he introduced her to the basics of horse riding. He saddled her a horse and then his own, and after a cursory introduction to guiding the horse, led them out into an open field. 

There was a rhythm to riding that she quickly picked up, and when she realized the giant beast beneath her was easily controlled, she relaxed a little and enjoyed the ride. 

"Do you miss it? This life?" she asked as they walked through the stacks of gathered hay.

Denny was thoughtful for some minutes before he finally replied. "I loved growing up here. The rough and tumbling sort of boyhood that makes for good coming-of-age novels. But I'd always loved school, too. And it was in my education, my love of drawing and architecture that made me look outside this valley for a future. And then of course when I was in high school, it was sort of understood by my dad that of course I'd go to college, and of course I'd study law."

"And you don't regret not becoming an architect?"

He gave her a sideways glance, a smile cracking his lips. "I think you've asked me that before."

She bit back a smile and shrugged. "So what will happen to this place if you don't take over?"

Denny sighed. "Well, my mom will always be involved with the care of those rescues as long as she can walk, but my dad, I bet he retires in a maybe ten years and turns the day-to-day running of the place over to Mitch. He's the manager. He's young and ambitious. A good manager of the rest of the hands though, too."

"Will your father sell?"

"I'm sure eventually. But there hasn't been any talk," he relayed. She nodded thoughtfully and they continued on their ride in silence.

When they arrived back at the stables, Denny could see a few more cars in the drive. "Looks like Granny River and Pops are here. Uncle Richard and Leah, too. Come on," he urged, putting a hand at her back, "let me introduce you."

When they entered the big house, they could hear voices off toward the kitchen. "And here they are," Pima said to the group of new arrivals when she spotted Denny and Alessa. "Alessa, come here and let me introduce you to my mom and dad. Guys, this is Alessa, Denny's girlfriend. Alessa, this is Rita and Keith, or Granny River and Pops, as Denny calls them."

"Alessa, such a pretty name for a beautiful girl," Granny River gushed, her hands opened wide as she stepped forward to hug her. She was bony, overlaid with squishy flesh, and she smelled warm and florally. 

"Thank you," Alessa said softly before she was passed to Pops, a tall man with a big pot belly. Again, she was hugged tightly and slapped affectionately on the back.

It was then Denny's turn to greet his grandparents, the love between them evident as Granny River cupped his face, though she didn't even come up to his shoulder. Alessa lifted her hand to cover her grin when she pinched his cheek. Next she was introduced to his aunt and uncle, who were equally warm in their greeting. And as it was time for lunch, Pima invited Alessa to join the woman as they gathered the food. 

"Alessa made your buttermilk syrup this morning, mom," Pima relayed.

"Oh?"

"Denny said it was the best he'd ever had; just like you used to make. And that was before I told him his lovely girlfriend made it."

"So you cook?" Granny River asked Alessa as she stirred the pasta salad.

"I can follow a recipe," Alessa admitted.

The older woman chuckled as she patted Alessa on the shoulder, and for the next fifteen minutes, despite the newness of the company, she felt herself fall easily enough into conversation and the awkwardness of new acquaintanceship disappeared.

The family spent a very pleasant hour out on the large patio eating tasty food and drinking a nearby vineyard's wine. Conversation was cheery, and despite the cool crispness of the air, Alessa felt increasingly more comfortable.

Later that afternoon, Denny's cousin Katrina and her husband arrived. Alessa watched him interact with her, wondering what sort of brother he might have been had he been hers. Kat, as the rest of his family called her, was very friendly, instantly latching onto her as she would a long-lost sister. At first talk was primarily about how her pregnancy was going and if she would have the baby before the new year. Kat, who admitted to having gained thirty-five pounds during the pregnancy and feeling like she was bulging at the seams, practically guaranteed she'd deliver before Christmas, to which the rest of the family laughed.




Trivial Pursuits Ch. 20



At some point in the afternoon, most of the family members made their way out onto the smooth lawn to begin set up for the family games that had become a tradition in the River family over the past half-century. Alessa was helping Kat hang up the autumnal designed banners above one of the tables when her phone rang.

Pulling it from her back pocket, she saw it was her mother, and though a hesitancy to answer the call rose up, she knew there wouldn't be a better time to speak with her over the busy week. She excused herself and swiped her thumb to answer.

"Hi, Mom," she greeted as she began slowly walking across the yard to stand near the edge of a meadow of tall, golden grasses.

"Hi, there. How's it going?" 

Alessa could hear the weariness in her voice. "Oh...just fine. I'm helping hang decorations. Apparently, they have a big lawn-games competition every year, and so we're setting up for it now."

"Sounds exciting."

"And I think this evening we're going to start on some of the food prep. There's a lot of us so that means a lot of food. Apparently, Denny's mom and grandmother are excellent cooks, and I've been enlisted to help."

"That sounds nice," she said weakly.

"How's it going with you?" Alessa asked tentatively, though she didn't want to hear the truth.

"Well, this past week has been rough. I've had a headache now for the last four days that won't go away, and of course the pain meds just make me sleep all day long. Plus, my stomach's on the fritz again, so I've had constant diarrhea, which you know me, now I'm dehydrated."

"M'sorry to hear that," Alessa responded staidly, as she watched her foot dig at a small lump of dirt in the otherwise manicured turf. "Are you getting enough fluids?"

"Well, I'm trying, but probably not."

Silence.

"Well, what are you doing for Thanksgiving?"

"We had planned on going to his sister's, but with the way I'm feeling, probably won't make it. And because we didn't plan on doing anything here, we probably won't have any traditional foods, like the turkey and stuffing."

"M'sorry to hear that," Alessa repeated more softly.

"Well, what are his parents like?"

"They're nice, mom. Very nice. The whole family has made me feel right at home."

"I'm so happy to hear that, sweetie. You'll have to bring him over here so I can meet him one of these days," she invited.

A pause before, Alessa nodded. "Sure. I'm sure he'd like to meet you. I mean, of course he wants to meet you. Yeah, we'll have to look at our schedules to see when we can make it out and spend the day."

"Sounds good. Well, have a nice time. Happy Thanksgiving."

"You too, mom. Happy Thanksgiving," she said, forcing a smile to stall the tears forming in her eyes.

"Love you. Talk soon. Bye."

"Love you too, mom. Bye."

She closed her eyes, but was unable to stop the tears from spilling down her cheeks in a silent brokenness. Minutes passed as she allowed the anguish of her mother's condition, the hopeless misery of it all, to wash through her. When she again opened her eyes, she dried her cheeks and stood looking out over the golden field in a torpor. When she turned around, she saw Denny carrying a large wooden box before he sat it down and stooped over to position it to his liking. 

The knot. 

How could she feel so complete and happy with Denny when her mother's own life was so destitute of any good thing? And then she understood the weight deep inside. Guilt. She felt guilty that she was happy and that her mother wasn't.

While she wrestled with the new awareness and the unknowing of what to do about any of it, Denny turned, scanning for her. When he spotted her he stood watching and then raised a hand.

She returned the gesture, indicating she was good. As she took a shuddering breath, she knew it was a lie.

That evening, the family had grilled tri-tip with a ranchero sauce and mashed sweet potatoes. "I know we're having them tomorrow for the traditional meal, but it's a sin to serve this beef and sauce without them. They perfect it. Best combination," Pima defended as she instructed Alessa how to prepare them. And when Alessa took her first bite of the succulent beef with the spicy sauce, she couldn't agree more that the sweet potatoes were the perfect complement.

After dinner, much to Denny's quiet chagrin, Pima pulled out the family photo album, and the women all gathered around as Pima and Alessa snuggled on the couch. The listener smiling ruefully across the room at her boyfriend as the teller of great, embarrassing tales shared the stories behind the images captured in the album. And by the time Alessa hugged Pima goodnight, she felt warm kinship that surprised her in its nature and strength.

Early the following morning, Denny woke her up for a run along the road into town and back. It was quiet at that hour, with dawn just breaking over the fields and bathing them in a pure golden hue, bleeding away the blue ink of the night. And the cool mist that rises from the warmth of the earth clung low to the ground, casting it all in an ethereal net of white. There wasn't any talking between them, just their honestly earned breath pounding out in the still morning air.

They showered when they returned before joining the rest of the waking family. The day was filled with ongoing excitement and enjoyment as everyone was paired off in teams to participate in the lawn games, with the women occasionally ducking inside to complete a meal prep task or two. And as the time for the feast drew nearer, Alessa began to feel like Pima's right hand, helping her out more than she had anticipated. 

It had been her experience in the past, that when you offered assistance to the hostess, she more often than not handed over a menial task that would take only two minutes if she didn't outright claim she had everything covered. And while Alessa had always thought that was what a good hostess did, being so heavily utilized by Pima made her realize the sharing in the burden and responsibility of preparing the meal was the most effective way to make the guest welcomed.

Once everyone had gorged themselves, numerous times, on the abundant and delicious food and the men had cleared the table and run two loads of the dishwasher, the family members milled around, some taking up games at the tables, some watching football. During conversation, it came out that Alessa was a modest chess player. Hollis, wanting to test that claim, challenged her to a game. The match was slow to start, not much happening besides a reshuffling of players on the board. Conversation started idly, Hollis asking more and more about her cases, about her schooling, about anything related to law.

"Check," she stated simply.

Hollis studied the board and moved his queen's bishop, though he knew it was just prolonging the inevitable.

"Yeah, I still think about it, about what sort of law I would have liked to practice. Definitely not that corporate law you and Denny got yourselves into."

"Hm," Alessa mused thoughtfully, her attention divided between the board and Hollis' conversation. She moved a knight.

"Of course, my life here has been great. Hard work of course, but a good, happy life. But it's hard to not regret it. And as you can tell, Pops is a great man and he really set us up to have this great life."

"Check," Alessa stated again after she'd captured a rook.

Hollis looked at the board and frowned. He saw the execution coming, but wondered if he could side step the guillotine. He moved his king.

"And of course it's hard to resent a good life. But sometimes..."

"I wonder if that's how Denny feels," Alessa pondered out loud, and then moved her knight one more time.

"Hm?" Hollis asked, not certain he heard her correctly.

"Checkmate," she declared and looked up at him, his brow creased in confusion.

"Good game," she said with a smile. "It's been such a long time since I've played, but I hope I proved myself. But I'm beat," she yawned. "I should probably go to bed. Goodnight." She smiled sweetly before leaving him to ponder the play of the game and words.

"Oh, there you are," Alessa said in surprise as she rounded the corner to find Denny standing there, quiet and serious-eyed. She stepped up to him, slipping her arms around him to lay her head on his chest. "I'm tired. Bed?"

Denny nodded. "Sure, Sweetheart, let's go." He took her by the hand and they wished everyone a good night. Once they were in the guest house, Denny turned on the fire and dropped her hand. Turning to her, he softly, slowly cupped her cheek and stared into her eyes. His thumb traced her lips once or twice before his head dipped to caress them with his own.

Alessa's stomach flipped as her blood filled with liquid fire when his lips touched hers. She had wanted sleep, but found herself instead opening her mouth to his gently prodding tongue, welcoming him in. Denny's other hand snaked around her back and down to cup her bottom, pulling her tightly against him and his growing need. Her own arms threaded up and around his back, enjoying the firm play of muscles she found there.

After his sensual kiss had effectively communicated his intent, his hands found the bottom of her sweater and slowly pulled it off, her hands lifting above her head. Denny shucked his shirt and tossed it aside. She then removed her shoes as her hands went to the fastener of his pants, effectively undoing it while his hands slid up and down her arms. His hands then slid over her chest, exciting her skin through the satin camisole, causing her nipples to harden satisfactorily. Next was the button of her jeans. Looking into her eyes, he popped the button free and then agonizingly slowly pulled the zipper down. His hands then skimmed down her sides and into her pants, peeling them off her hips. She wiggled back and forth, but before she could bend down to take them off, Denny had gone down on his knees before her.

He pulled them down her legs until she could step out of them. Denny's eyes and hands devoured her long legs as his gaze made its way from her feet, up her shins, past her knees, along the smooth curves of her thighs, all the way to her eyes. And though she was sexy as hell in just her satin camisole and matching panties, he slid his hands under her top and took off the last layer, leaving her torso bare to his ravenous eyes.

With just his tantalizing fingertips, he traced the curves of her breasts, skimming the slopes, caressing the contours, scraping a nail over the turgid tip. And then he pinched one, causing a gasp that died into a moan. When he treated the twin likewise, she leaned into his hand, her own hands reaching out for him, needing to pull him closer. 

Denny departed from her breasts, trailing his hands down her sternum, over the smooth ridges of her ribs, drawing invisible paths of discovery on her skin. And then, unable to resist any longer, he leaned in and placed a chaste, reverent kiss on her stomach. First one, and then another, until soon his mouth bathed her in unending love.

Alessa's fingers were woven into his hair, and as she looked down at her lover and his mouth French kissing her skin, she shivered from the aching need for him. Only him. Denny's hands had moved to her back and were treating her skin with the same nerve-wracking awakening, causing an endless tidal wave of sensation to surge through her. When he had kissed all the skin within reach, he looked up at her, and cupping the nape of her neck, pulled her down to him for a soul rending kiss. 

His hands guided her to join him on the floor, all the while his lips and tongue never separating from her. His own fingers were embedded in her dark hair, the tips firmly massaging her scalp and sending more delicious ripples of pleasure through her. At length, he urged her to lie back on the fur rug beneath them, and then loomed over her. He continued his affectionate attention to her body, kissing her shoulders and arms, the sides of her chest and down her rib cage. He did pay more attention to her breasts, kissing and biting, nipping the thinnest layer of skin before engulfing and sucking as much as he could.

"You are the most amazing, beautiful creature in the world," he confessed. "I could eat nothing but you for the rest of my life." He then urged her to turn over, and when she was on her stomach, he swept her hair to the side and began again with the nibbling, worshiping kisses on her neck.

Alessa laid a cheek on her folded hands, her eyes closed as she was bathed in love. Eventually, Denny had made his way down her back until at last he was hampered by the edge of her underwear at the top of her buttocks. His fingers slipped under the satiny fabric and pulled down, revealing her glorious ass.

Alessa arched her lower back, raising her hips off the rug, presenting him with the most erotic view of her sweet body. Slowly he pulled the fabric down, at first revealing the crack of her bottom and then the crease of her cheeks, and then her plump and wet folds. He continued until he had slid the panties all the way down her legs and off her feet.

Crawling back over her, he continued with his kisses, his lips enjoying the firm but fleshy feel of her bottom. He licked and bit, testing the weight and density. He moved from the top, out around the edges, and toward the inner surfaces. Alessa tensed momentarily when she felt his strong hands cup each cheek and spread them apart and gasped when she felt his tongue stroke down the sensitive tissue there. But he didn't stay long, and though he almost reached the aching lips of her sex, he didn't linger, but continued his way on down her legs, treating first one, and then the other to the same reverential treatment he'd given the rest of her body. 

When both feet had been thusly treated, he spoke. "Turn over, Sweetheart."

At first, Alessa just turned her head and shoulder, causing her trunk to twist and leaving one leg to drape over the other. Denny squeezed a big toe. "All the way," to which she complied. He gave a soft, half smile as she lay with her arms draped above her head and her body contorted and angled just enough to look like an alluring boudoir photograph. 

On his hands and knees, he continued his loving way back up her body, setting her aflame wherever his lips touched her. She was panting by the time he reached the tops of her thighs, her legs moving restlessly in need and desire. As he crept nearer, she kept her eyes trained on him, watching with a dark hunger. Unconsciously, or perhaps very deliberately, her thighs splayed so he could settle between them, so he could continue to make love to her with his mouth.

At first, he circled around his target, kissing and tickling the sensitive skin between her hip bones, skimming it with the rough stubble of his cheek. He drew a lazy fingertip around the delicate skin of her groin where his lips weren't touching, carving maddening designs there.

"Denny, Denny please," she begged, knowing she needed so much more.

"Patience, my love. Good things come to those who wait."

Alessa's hips rolled up toward him, inviting him, pleading with him. And then, in mercy, Denny at last parted her folds with his fingers, revealing her very red and weeping core, the nub of desire turgid and reaching up to him for attention.

At first he trailed the pointed tip of his tongue along the glossy tissue of her open sex, relishing in the silky feel and taste. After attending to the length of those lips on either side, he moved in towards that button and grazed his tongue over it, drawing a whimper from her. Alessa propped herself up on her elbows to watch, the anticipation nearly killing her.

"Denny," she pleaded. Only his name. 

The open purity of her need for him set him on fire, burning his gut, hardening his cock completely. But he was not to be rushed. Not tonight. Not when he didn't want to simply tell her, but show her how much he loved her. 

He had overheard her statement to his father, and her simply worded pondering was proof enough that she cared for him, that she thought of him and defended him and his happiness. And in that moment, he wanted nothing more than to declare his own affection to her. He wanted to be the source of all her joy, all her happiness, to be the answer to all her questions, the solution to all her problems.

He suckled and licked, nibbled and stroked the center of her pleasure, angling himself so he could look up her body to the beautiful agony of need in her eyes. He held her gaze as he conducted the most thorough, powerful assault on her body. He wanted to watch ecstasy overtake her, wanted to bear witness to the greatest rapture she would ever know.

A finger entered her tight and clenching channel, hitting all the needy places. Alessa's hips were undulating desperately against him, and he laid a strong forearm across her lower abdomen to pin her to the floor, to make her a victim to the pleasure he would conjure in her. He added a second finger, so amazed that he ever fit in her tight body.

Not being able to move, not able to shy away or rush after the sensations his mouth and fingers produced, made her feel wonderfully weak and happily used. And then she was there, catching the rising wave that would float her into shore.

"I want you to come for me, Sweetheart. So hard. I'm going to make you come so hard for me," Denny murmured against her, hearing her increasingly frantic moans and rapid breathing. "I need you to come for me, baby. Be such a good girl for me and come."

Alessa cried out, his words acting as the catalyst that sent her soaring. Her tight passage clamped down on his fingers, over and over, her hips straining against his restraining arm to move and quiver and quake. Her hands were gripping the same arm that kept her immobile, her sob of relief filling their small corner of the world. Alessa's eyes shut as her body seized and arched off the floor. And Denny watched hungrily through it all.

Reverently, he licked clean all the fluid that gushed from her body, gingerly using his tongue to delve into her tender and still trembling depths. Her moans were a trickling stream of sensual repletion and they filled him with an animalistic pride that demanded equal satisfaction. 

Slowly he crept up her body, more kisses as he went, keeping her tethered to him through the light and easy pleasure of his roaming mouth. Her head had fallen to the side, her chest heaving as his lips skimmed up her slender neck and across the angle of her jaw. She turned to him, opening her mouth to welcome him, her arms echoing the sentiment by sliding up his arms and pulling down on his back. He settled down on top of her, kissing her tenderly. His fingers raked back the dampened hair around her temple as her hands wandered down his back.

"You're still in your jeans," she said against his mouth.

"Mm, so I am," he replied, his contentment to stay as he was evident in the unaffected tempo of his words.

"I want you out of them."

"Why?" he asked, his mouth falling across her cheek to nuzzle under her ear.

"Because I can't fuck you if you're in them," she replied tartly, though the edge of her tone was softened in her post-coital euphoria.

Denny chuckled against her ear. "Oh, Sweetheart, I'm not fucking you tonight."

Alessa finally pulled back away from him. He lifted up to gaze down at her. "Tonight I'm making love to you," he explained softly, before kissing the tip of her nose.

Instantly, a heat beyond the pleasures of the body rose up through her, causing a tightness in her chest. If it hadn't been for the flush from her recent orgasm, she would be blushing from the promise in his words, the meaning they held.

Kissing her once more, Denny reluctantly kneeled in away from her body and shoved his jeans down past his butt, effectively springing him free. When they were to his knees, he gently lay back down on top of her and kicked his pants free. He was nearly perfectly positioned in the junction of her thighs, his thick penis smashing against her open sex.




Trivial Pursuits Ch. 20



For a time, he seemed content to just gaze down on her, smoothing her hair back, running the back of his fingers along the smooth skin of her cheeks and neck. He traced the contours of her open mouth with a finger, and then gave a little groan when her mouth parted more, inviting the digit in. In and out he slowly moved his finger, her tongue laving it from inside her moist cavern, suckling it so he could feel the sensation deep in his cock. Not able to take the torture for long, he replaced his finger with his mouth, his tongue sensually sliding against hers.

Denny couldn't stop touching her body, couldn't get enough pleasure with just his hands, and so pulling away from her, looked her in the eyes as he shifted his hips. The crown of his shaft slid down the length of her wet slit until it nestled at her entrance. Denny reached down to grasp his throbbing cock and hold it steady as his hips slowly pushed forward, sliding him deeper and deeper in. He had to pull out a little before proceeding farther, repeating the slow and steady invasion until she had stretched around his fat girth and he was completely embedded in her. 

For a moment, he was content just to feel her tight walls slowly clench around him, adjusting to him. Alessa bent her legs, drawing her knees up so her feet were flat on the floor. Denny reached back and drew one to hook at the top of his butt, opening her up, deepening the connection. She groaned when she felt him sink that much farther into her. Her hands were touching every part of him she could reach, and when she drew him down for a kiss, he began to slowly move, pulling out and then falling slowly back in.

But Denny didn't kiss her for long as he still wanted to watch her face, watch her expressions as he once again produced pleasure in her. Their pace was unhurried, lacking the frantic pace of many of their past encounters. It was slow and measured, deliberate and powerful. A deep flush again rose up her cheeks, now marking her with the flame he created in her.

When Denny felt her deep walls begin to flutter once more, he stilled, denying her the oncoming orgasm. Alessa whimpered in response, and he leaned down to kiss her in comfort. When her body had seemingly calmed, he drew back once more, this time coming up to sit back on his knees and drawing her thighs to lay over his and hook behind him. The position caused Alessa's lower back to arch up as her hips rose up to lay on his thighs and her shoulders and head rested on thick fur. Denny put a hand in the arch of her back to support her and placed the other on her lower abdomen right above her mound.

He then moved his hips back and then forward against her, driving himself in and out. Positioned as they were, Denny's shaft was angled to scrape along the front inner side of her passage, perfectly hitting the deep bundle of nerves as well as providing his hand a chance to feel him move inside of her. It was the hottest fucking thing he'd ever felt. Alessa lay back watching him slowly drive into her, her fingers grasping onto his knees and the sides of his legs, though they weren't really able to find purchase.

She groaned as that deep fire was kindled and began burning low in her gut. It felt amazing to be so open to him, to be able to do nothing more than accept what he offered. Denny drove into her like that, until again he brought her near the dark precipice. When her moaning gave her impending climax away, he stopped the thrust of his hips and drew her up to sit on top of his thighs. 

Alessa's arms immediately circled around his shoulders to cling to him. Their foreheads touched as they stared at each other, panting with the intense pleasure coursing through them. Alessa readjusted her legs to bend back at the knees so she could use her feet for leverage. With Denny's arms around her, she began moving on him, sliding up and down and back and forth on his cock.

Denny wasn't going to hold back any longer, knowing he'd kept her from her much deserved climax long enough. He was ready to come himself, and so together they began seeking fulfillment in earnest. She could hear the sound of her wet body being invaded with each thrust, but it was soon drowned out by her own growing moans. Again she was gasping his name as her hands pulled him in for endless kisses.

She was crying out now, a constant, desperately needy sound echoing into his mouth. He could feel the vibration all the way through his body. Her pace was furious against him as she could feel how close she was. He leaned away from her, his hands leaving her back to cup her face and stare at her. And peering into her eyes he flung her deep into reeling pleasure as her body tensed and shuddered around him. 

Watching the intensity of her orgasm completely possess her, he felt himself tip on the verge, and pulled her to him for a fierce, greedy kiss. With her tight walls crushing his cock as she convulsed around him, he felt free to let himself find his own blinding release. The ripples and waves and eddies overtook their senses, and for several minutes they could only gasp and cling to each other.

When he could see again, when thoughts began to emerge in his mind and return him to reality, Denny maneuvered them to lay down on the rug. Their skin was flushed and covered in sweat and bathed in the golden light of the fire. Alessa was still breathing heavily and slowly stirred back to the present with the tender kisses Denny placed on her face and shoulders. Her eyes fluttered open to find him leaning on an elbow above her.

They were silent for several moments as they stared at each other, Alessa trying to understand what was passing between them. "What was that?" she asked at last, her voice soft and uncertain.

Denny's smile was gentle and filled with...

"Today's a good day to celebrate, to be mindful of what we're happy for in life, right?" She nodded slowly. "Well, I'm grateful for my family, for my success. But, at this moment, I can't think of anything I'm more thankful for...than you," he whispered. He slowly bent his head down to caress her lips with his, pouring all his emotion into the kiss.

When he pulled back again, he cupped her cheek and summed up the courage, knowing there wasn't going to be a more perfect time than this.

"I'm thankful that you've given me a chance, that you've given yourself a chance. I'm thankful for your dry sense of humor, which always makes me smile. I'm thankful for your expressive eyes. I'm thankful for the strength that has kept you going, for your insight and your bravery and your loyalty to your nightly runs. I'm thankful that you fight with me for what you believe and that you haven't made it easy, but I'm thankful you've given in, if only a little. I'm thankful for your friendship. And I'm thankful that a day doesn't go by that I don't get to see you, if only for a little bit. Because, you see, there isn't anyone I want to see more. There isn't anyone I want to hear from more, be with more. Because, my sweet heart, there isn't anyone I love more than you."

Alessa had grown increasingly tense during his speech and could only hold her breath when he admitted that he loved her. Denny could tell instantly by her reaction that her brain was in overdrive, but he held her gaze steady and unflinching, not willing to be afraid of how he felt, certain she must feel the same. 

She lay like a stone statue below him, her mind cranking to process his confession and to analyze her own reaction, to decipher her own feelings. And mingled in with the fear and surprise and pleasure was that old familiar guilt. And having recognized it for what it was earlier, she now realized the full depth of it; she felt guilty that not only was her life a success, but that she was loved by a great man. And she loved him in return.

Alessa blinked back tears, overwhelmed by her own revelation and fearful of what it all meant. She couldn't say it back, even if it was true, for it was covered and held down by so many other things. She did the only thing she could, and lifted her hands to his face and pulled him down for a passion-filled kiss.

Denny wasn't quite hurt that she said nothing, but more relieved that she was at least reaching for him, kissing him and not running screaming into the night. When she shivered from the cold, they moved to the bed and held each other, kissing and touching and whispering late into the early hours.

As her mind was weighed down by all that had transpired between her and Denny the night before, she reluctantly spent Friday with the women of the family shopping the after-holiday deals. Katrina was gearing up to finalize the items she needed for the new baby, and most of the day was spent in and out of baby boutiques.

"You're awfully quiet today," Pima observed as she looped her arm through Alessa's as she walked through one of the stores. "Don't enjoy baby-stuff shopping?"

"Hm? Oh, I suppose I never really thought about it."

"Don't you want kids?"

Alessa thought for a moment, wondering what to keep hidden, what to confess. "Honestly, I've always been so focused on succeeding, on doing well and finding a job and a career that I could excel in, that family never really entered my mind."

"But something's changed?" Pima pried, picking up a small pair of pink baby booties.

"Oh," Alessa stuttered, realizing now for the first time that what she had imagined and planned for had been reshaped just by Denny's presence in her life. "Well, I suppose, perhaps a little."

"I don't mean to pry, but can I share a little insight?" When Alessa nodded, she proceeded. "Denny's brought girls, women home in the past. Usually just for dinner, but once or twice for the weekend. But he has never brought anyone to a special family event. He's never looked at any of them the way he looks at you. He's serious about you. He's serious about what you two are together. Now, you have to decide if you feel the same way, and then make how you feel understood and live true to it. It isn't enough to be greatly loved by someone, if you don't feel the same."

Alessa turned to her. "Pima, I..." but she couldn't confess her love for Denny when she hadn't said it to him yet, when she didn't know how it would change her life, and so simply stated, "I'll think about it." And together, the two women walked arm in arm, thoughts of a man and his future weaving through their minds.

*****

A/N:

The author's take on it all...

I don't want to say too much in fear of overtly foreshadowing things to come, however many of you clearly have an issue with the scenes in the last chapter, and I decided to share my perception of the underlining issues at hand in hopes you would better understand Denny's actions.

First and foremost-and this is a problem I had with my other story Possess Me that many readers did/do not seem to intuitively grasp-this is NOT a BDSM story. Sure, he ties her up in this scene, but he himself does not really know anything about BDSM and all the many 'rules' that go along with it, such as safe words. BDSM and being tied up in one scene are not mutually inclusive; one CAN exist without the other, and therefore, just because he ties her up in one instance, doesn't mean that all the very well formed and clearly outlined guidelines for BDSM interaction apply.

Denny only has an idea to create an allegorical sexual encounter with her to illustrate her maladaptive coping mechanisms, he's not looking to make her a submissive. He simply wants her to come to the feeling that she's not in control, at least for a few minutes, and readjust her reaction to that from being afraid and needing to run, as has been her pattern, to remaining calm and strong so she can make the choice she really wants. He's bringing awareness to this unhealthy habit and giving her the opportunity to grow from it. As someone has pointed out, sure, perhaps it's a little patronizing, but they wouldn't be where they are if he wasn't a little pushy with her. 

And for those of you who are a bit squeamish with how 'reluctant' Alessa has been and how much Denny must coerce her into participating, I can appreciate that this story does straddle the line of romance/non-consensual, though if I were to publish it in the non-con section, they would argue that it wasn't non-con enough. I find that this story is ultimately a romance, though due to the past damage of our heroine, she would have preferred to forget that love and lust exist, and therefore, if he is to win her, the hero must be a little forceful, at times shocking her into realizing just what possibilities lie in a relationship.

As to the story being one-sided with only Alessa's issues being addressed...well, that was the whole premise for this story, to explore her transformation as she develops the mentality and skills needed to be in a healthy relationship. When I began to visualize it was about Alessa finding growth through the sexual escapades her partner put her through. It wasn't about Denny-though I think he is far from perfect and will demonstrate growth by the end of the story. But he gets her; he applies his power of analysis to peel back the layers of her behavior to find the root cause deep inside. He's made a few mistakes here and there, but ultimately, that is his role in this story, to guide her to understand herself and find the courage to face it and change it.

And as for all the claims that Denny believes Alessa isn't good enough for him, or that he is trying to change her, I don't think that is the case at all. It isn't as if he is guiding her interests, or telling her who she can spend time with or advising her that her political philosophy is wrong...he only addresses all those maladaptive and fear-driven behaviors she developed over the years, and which are strangling her chance for a love and happiness. He likes Alessa very much, but the poor girl needs therapy. And true, to one reader's point, she would best be served in actual therapy with a trained therapist. But then that wouldn't be an erotic story, would it?

I hope my explanations have helped ease some of your concerns, for those of you on the boarder. As for the rest, I get it, that's fine if this isn't your cup of tea. No one expects you to stay and keep reading.



Trivial Pursuits Ch. 21



Dear Readers,

First let me apologize for the long delay in submitting this chapter. Real life obligations have kept me very busy, leaving little to no time for thought or work on this story. It has, however, calmed down and I am now able to dedicate most of my free time to it, and as such I sincerely hope to have the next (and possibly last?) chapter written, edited and uploaded within two weeks.

Secondly, a big thank you to all of you faithful few who have continued to return, read, rate and review. Your ongoing encouragement certainly goes a long way to sustain my efforts to pen these stories.

Thank you to AlreadyTaken, my ever-faithful editor for yet another valuable edit and suggestions. And a new thank you to another editor, who, alas has not given me her Member name. You know who you are :)

Enjoy!

Titania

******

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE





Trivial Pursuits Ch. 21



"Looking for a pace to live."

He looked at her in sharp confusion. "What?"

"Mr. Cho's son is selling the house. I think it'll be on the market by the first of the new year, less than four weeks away. My contract won't extend to the new owners, so, even if they allow me to stay, it won't be at my current rate. Anyway, I don't know if I could live there, not with new people weeding his garden and trimming his hedges." She teared up, much to her annoyance. Clearing her throat and tossing the apple core away, she went on. "So, I think it's just best if I find a new apartment somewhere."

"Live with me."

Alessa looked up sharply at Denny to find him gazing at her intently, something fierce in his eyes. Denny hadn't meant to blurt out his first thought, but he didn't regret it either. Instinctively he knew this was the next step they needed and instantly wanted nothing more than to wake up next to her every morning. 

For the rest of his life.

"Move in with me," he repeated, softer this time, the sharp intensity placed with honest longing.

"Denny, I'm not sure—"

"What new thing have you ever been sure about?" he asked gently, coming to sit across from her at the small table, his boiling water long forgotten. "What have I ever suggested that you didn't first want to refuse? But hasn't everything turned out fine? Better than fine?"

She regarded him, half want, half fearful uncertainty.

"And what happens in a year?"

The shift in his expression was miniscule, but to Alessa, it spoke everything. The idea that she still behaved as if this arrangement-their relationship-was only an experiment, that their time together was only finite, no matter how exquisite, upset him immeasurably. And yet, she knew the near-imperceptible tightening of his features was his attempt at restraining such frustration with her.

"You really think I'll be over you in a year? That this will die that quickly? If at all?" he asked evenly, daring her to contradict the strength of his feeling. The depth of hers.

'But if not a year, when?' She didn't want to live in that uncertainty. But how could she avoid it?

"I need to think about this, Denny. I'm not saying no, just...it's not prudent to rush headlong into something like this," she argued.

Denny was silent as he considered her reasoning. He nodded in acceptance. "Very well, but will you promise to discuss this with me before you make your decisions? Allow me to argue my case?" He gave her a soft smile of encouragement as he continued to study her.

Alessa's expression remained solemn, but she nodded. "Of course. If I want to say no, I'll give you a chance to convince me," she replied, though she knew she really wasn't likely to raise any objections. The only reason she had to reject the offer was based on her fear that it would all end badly, that he would eventually stop loving her as he claimed and move on to someone else. And what could he say in defense of that? He would promise that it wouldn't happen, or as Lou claimed, sometimes messy, heart wrenching break ups did occur, but that the joy experienced before then was always worth the risk. And what sort of reassurance were any of those answers?

But it was the call she received on the following Monday that forced her hand. It took her a moment to realize it was Hyun-Joong's voice on the other end. He was calling from Seoul and had been thinking about her. "Have you now? And what were you thinking?" she asked smiling, reclining back in her chair, happy to be distracted from the contract before her.

"How badly the team here needs you."

"You mean at the Seoul office?"

"Yes. Right now the two lawyers Denny has assigned to handling the day-to-day, well one of them is alright, but the other, just a tourist!" he laughed miserably. "He has no idea about any cultural implications of some of his decisions. The man's a moron." 

Alessa frowned. "I'm sorry to hear that. Maybe I could say something to Denny about it. Which lawyer?"

"The only thing I want you speaking to Denny about regarding Seoul is that you've decided to leave him for me," he chuckled. "So, what do you say? Seoul? Come over here and soak up the Korean lifestyle?" he begged prettily.

Alessa giggled, but then sighed. "Can't."

"And why is that? What's so great about San Francisco? Or is it that your work is everything you dreamed of?"

There was a pause as she debated admitting Denny anchored her more than anything else, but Hyun-Joong beat her to it. "Or is it a who?" he asked knowingly. "You'd really give up your career for some casual relationship?"

Alessa sighed. "It's a little more serious than casual, I'm afraid," she admitted, ironically feigning gravity to hide just how serious her feelings were.

Again another pause. "How serious?"

"Well, we've met each other's families; we spend the majority of our free time together; he told me he loves me; and now," she took a deep breath, "he's asked me to move in with him."

At first, the silence on the other end lasted so long Alessa thought they'd lost the connection, but when she asked if he was still there, he spoke.

"No, I'm still here. Alessa, I'm sorry, I didn't realize things had gotten so serious. Congratulations, I guess," he answered in a voice not as merry as his words, before bucking up and laughing. "Well, to the best man go the spoils I suppose. But if you ever change your mind, I'd like you to sincerely consider coming to Seoul, all flirting aside. Even if for just a year assignment. You'd be invaluable and it would be the experience of a lifetime." 

Alessa nodded softly, though he couldn't see her. "Sure, if something here changes, I'll be sure to keep you in mind."

After another minute of catching up, they said their goodbyes, and when Alessa hung up, she studied the computer in front of her for only a moment before standing up and striding purposefully to Denny's office. Clare waved her on through with a smile. Alessa knocked softly on the door before stepping in and shutting it behind her. 

Though both of her feet were solidly planted on the carpeted floor before his desk, she felt as if she were at the end of the plank, about to step off to either plunge into shark infested waters or fly with fairy dust.

"Okay. I've thought about it and, provided all the particulars are worked out, I have decided to move in."

Denny's pleasure was immediate but measured. "Glad to hear it. And what terms do we need to work out?"

"Bill payment, primarily, though logistics of furniture meshing are also essential. Closet space."

"You don't really have a lot of furniture," he pointed out, a ghost of a smile playing at his lips.

"That's not to say that I don't want to feel at home in my surroundings. While your furniture is...nice, it's yours. If I couldn't change anything then I would feel like little more than an extended weekend guest."

He nodded. "And what pieces did you have in mind?"

She opened her mouth and then shut it, thinking rapidly for an answer. "Well, perhaps furniture isn't the issue, but the few decorative items I have that I wouldn't want to be without. Like my Ryman print."

Denny's brow furrowed. "You mean your white painting?"

Her head cocked to the side just a little, a trace of stubborn defensiveness at her chin. "What do you mean? There's some blue-gray in it," she muttered before adding, "And just because it seems mostly white doesn't mean there isn't something to it. The original is priceless. It's an excellent example of reductive art."

"The white painting," he repeated and then gave a shrug. "Sure, it's a nice piece. And clearly you like it. I see no problem with it. What else?"

"Well, I don't know off the top of my head," she said in slight exasperation, not having intended to be put through the third degree. "But when I have to box things up for storage, I'm sure I'll wanna keep some things with me."

Denny had stood during her answer and walked around to the front of his desk to lean against it, a true smile at last breaking his slightly antagonistic expression. He cocked back his head, inviting her nearer. When she was within reach, his arms wrapped around her waist pulling her intimately against his body. Her hands went to his chest as her face angled up.

Cupping her cheek he murmured, "Sweetheart, I'd let you bring a circus with you if it meant I'd fall asleep with you in my arms every night." And then he swept his lips over hers in a sweet caress only meant as thanks, but which grew into something so much more fevered and needy. 

The buzzing of his phone finally pried them apart, Alessa smiling warmly as she wiped her mouth dry. Unfortunately the call was one he had to take. Looking at her apologetically, he mouthed that they could discuss it that evening. She nodded in understanding and departed his, her skin humming with electric tingles of excitement and dread.

Alessa postponed her nightly run in order to push through the last of the work before her and be free by seven or so to eat dinner with Denny and discuss logistics. She went to the break room to retrieve her dinner and found Denny had food in there as well. And though others still milled around working, the unease that they might begin to catch on to her and Denny's relationship seemed diminished somehow. She therefore carried her and Denny's food to his office without much thought to who noticed.

Standing in his doorway, she took a moment to smile at his appeal. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to reveal his muscular forearms as he leaned on them reading the paperwork before him. His suspenders that day were black and were nicely balanced with the pale blue shirt and white collar.

"Good evening," she demurred silkily and walked in after shutting the door. "I brought food."

Denny sat back in his chair, stretching his arms high and back to stretch his tired body. "You are a goddess."

"I don't know about all that."

"A good bar wench at the very least, then."

That made her laugh. She had begun to dig out their food from their respective bags, putting them on the plates she had brought. "And just what are the duties of a bar wench?"

He watched her smiling mouth, images flashing in his mind of just what a bar wench would do if paid. "I'm sure you can use your imagination."

As she handed him his plate her eyes flicked up to him. "Maybe. Alas, this establishment doesn't allow sheep," she deadpanned.

Denny burst into laughter. It took him a moment to recover before he was able to take a bite. Once they had settled into their food, he began the conversation.

"Okay, so how should we do this?"

Alessa looked up from her turkey and cranberry sandwich. She gave a delicate shrug of her shoulder. "I don't know, how have you done it in the past?"

Denny's mouth twisted in half smile. "I haven't," he confessed.

"You haven't? You mean you've never lived with someone?"

"Nope. You'll be my first," he said softly.

How he made her face flush hot even after all their time together, she'd never know. "Oh, well, I guess we'll just go about it systematically." She cleared her throat picking up a pen. "Well, first is rent. Oh, but it's a condo, right? You're buying it?"

He nodded. They were silent as they studied each other, their legally-trained minds going down the very same path of thought. "You know," Denny started preemptively, "we could draw up a cohab agreement, stating that you could have a return on the equity you contribute to if ever...we no longer lived together."

She thought a moment, her gaze steady though her heart beat rapidly. "Maybe let's see how the first month pans out before we make this too complicated. After all, I plan on paying rent at the moment, not buying property, regardless if I live with you or not. We can consider my contribution just that. At least for now."

When Denny only nodded, she continued on. She suggested a joint account to which they would contribute an equal amount to pay all their bills from. Denny shrugged and said it was very logical.

With that arranged, she began to make a list of things she would need to do in order to get everything moved. "It's only Monday," she thought out loud. He looked up, catching her eyes. "I could get everything packed by this weekend...well, at least things I'd want to take with me. I could be ready by Friday," she said slowly, gauging his reaction. "How 'bout you? Can you clean out half of your closet?" she tried to smile playfully.

"To make room for you? Absolutely."

Again she was blushing, and so she cleared her throat and looked down at the paper she was making notes on. "Okay, if you can work on getting all your hard bills listed this week and then this weekend we can sit down and make a budget for other things, such as groceries and whatnot." She scribbled some notes, using work as a distraction from the rising and falling of her stomach that was not ready for this ride. Once there was nothing personal left to discuss and delegate, she turned her attention back to her food.

Denny had finished his own dinner and was back to writing on his laptop. "And what are you working on?" she asked.

"I'm making a pitch to that new communications technology start-up I told you about, the one that spun off from SRL. They're in the market for a strategic planner, and I think they could be big."

"So you're going after them?"

"That's right. I have a meeting set up for Wednesday."

"Chances?"

"Good. Very good."

"Well, I'd wish you luck, but I doubt you need it." He finally looked up at her and smiled. There was a moment of silence before she sighed and gathered her things. "I'll leave you to it then. Besides, I should probably go start packing." She couldn't contain the smile of excitement. "See you tomorrow."

Denny was equally pleased, again cocking his head at her from across the desk. Knowingly, she placed her hands on it and leaned over to kiss him goodbye. The rest of the week continued on in an exhausting and busy cycle of work and packing. Alessa cut down her time at the office to only twelve hours and returned home every evening by eight to pack a few more things and clean. 

Conversely, Denny stayed at the office later and later working on his proposal. And when he met with the two-man team on Wednesday, the excitement in their young faces guaranteed him he'd just gained another quality client, though they had forty-eight hours to give him their official decision. When their call late Thursday morning confirmed it, he made arrangements to meet them Friday afternoon with all the requisite paperwork and tentative plans for their next steps.

Between the few suitcases full of her clothing and three boxes that held her books and more personal items, Alessa hadn't brought much with her. After work on Friday, she returned to her apartment and loaded her little car. In the end, she had decided to keep none of her furniture or small appliances, and the Cho family had agreed she could put whatever she wished in with their estate sale. As she had been more interested in getting rid of it all than in making money from the small amount of stuff she'd collected since college, she'd priced everything ridiculously low the night before. 

Alessa stood at her front door, taking one last look around the small flat cast in the white light of the December moon. Nostalgia arose, soft like a ghost off the white surfaces, wrapping itself around her, lacing its fingers through her chest to tug at her heart. But it was for the lonely life she finally had the courage to leave behind, and so she took a deep breath and forced a smile. She walked out the door and locked it, hoping everything sold so she wouldn't have to return.

When Alessa arrived at Denny's, she'd hope to find him in his condo waiting for her. But as she unlocked the door and flipped on the lights, she realized despite the late hour he wasn't home. Just as she thought to call him, her phone chimed. It was a text from him to inform her a few of the partners had taken him out to celebrate his newest client, and they'd dragged him off to one of their favorite bars afterwards. He wrote that he'd try to be home before midnight.

Alessa chuckled morosely as she realized their first night together would be that of the stereotypical professional couple who had little time for each other. She sighed as she went into the kitchen for some wine, telling herself to stop being melodramatic. 

She spent the rest of the late evening going through his closet, smiling because she found it exactly half empty. When she went into his guest room, she found the second half of his wardrobe hung in that closet, though there would still be room for more of her clothes as well. She put all her in-season clothing in the master closet and the off season clothing in the other. There was also an equal amount of space in the dresser, and as he was a man with simple needs, there was plenty of space in the bathroom for all her toiletries.

Alessa was seated before his bookshelf with a few candles flickering and half a bottle of wine as she glanced through a few of her favorite titles before placing them on the shelves she'd managed to make space on. She was absorbed in an old copy of The Ship of Theseus when Denny came home a quarter after twelve.

Though it was more common than not to spend Friday nights together, the thought that she was now home, that her home was his home, made something tingle along his spine and dance in his gut.

"'Ev'ning, Sweetheart," he greeted warmly, dropping his coat and briefcase down where he stood as he gazed at her sitting on the floor.

"Don't you mean 'good morning', handsome?"

"Is it?"

"About fifteen minutes ago."

"Then why don't we go into the bedroom and celebrate the first day together?"

Her smile was interrupted by a yawn. "I don't know if I can. It's been a pretty long day and I'm beat."

"Oh, no no no, Sweetheart," he said, offering out his hand. "Moments like this deserve a christening."

"Do they?" she questioned, accepting his hand.

Pulling her up to him, he remained adamant. "They demand it."

"Well then, perhaps I can muster the energy. Just this once."

He kissed her nose before sweeping her giggling up into his arms. He didn't bother blowing out the few candles as he carried her to their bed to make playful, ecstatic love to her.

The following morning over breakfast Denny detailed his latest triumph and shared his plans for the new technology company. Not only were there a charter to finalize and a corporation status to file, but there were also a number of patents to file. He was going to be swamped for the foreseeable future. 

After breakfast they went Christmas shopping, much to Alessa's discomfort. She hated shopping for gifts, always at a loss for what to buy or riddled with guilt that she was giving something the person didn't want or need but now had to pretend to be thankful for. In a moment of introspection, however, she recalled her inspired shirt and tie purchase and the following presentation over dinner and her most recent purchase at the Cal Academy, and wondered if there was something special about Denny that turned her into such a creative gift giver.

Denny, conversely, loved the hunt of matching someone with the perfect gift. His philosophy in general was that a gift should be something useful or wanted, but slightly out-of-the-box so the receiver wouldn't think to buy it for himself. He had always loved solving the mystery of gift buying and the anticipation as he sat and watched the person open his present. More often than not, his choices were a success, and he always felt a ripple of pleasure unmatched by anything else.

The remainder of the weekend was spent eating and working on their separate caseloads, and as Denny held her as they went to sleep late Sunday night, Alessa felt a wave of relief relax the tightness in her stomach. Whatever she had been anxious about, hadn't happened. Quite the contrary, she realized; staying with Denny, the knowledge that she was home had felt natural. Right. She sighed and snuggled a bit deeper into him, content for the moment. Happily expectant of the future.




Trivial Pursuits Ch. 21



Over the next week and a half, Denny and Alessa did the best they could to see each other as much as possible. With the increase in his work load, it wasn't easy. However, when they were free, they ate dinner together at the office while he worked to get the new company off the ground. And though they were often tired when they got home, they made the effort to connect physically, whether it was to shower together, give the other a massage, although any attempt to just kiss and cuddle typically grew beyond those simple touches until they were consumed in orgasmic bliss, wrapped desperately in the limbs of the other. 

Denny didn't sacrifice his early morning workouts, and Alessa watched as his routine began to take its toll on him. Though the awareness of her feelings was slow in coming, she began to make the effort to care for him. If they were lounging on the couch reading, she would mindlessly stroke the knots from his neck, bring him his afternoon tea, or offer to perform lesser tasks to ease his workload, and she always made his lunch and dinner. In a way it was just easier to make a double portion of whatever she made for herself, but it sprung from a deep place that wanted to see him cared for.

It took ten days of living together, caring for one another, that Alessa felt compelled to confess her own feelings, to reveal that, yes, she did in fact love him. On Tuesday, she made him promise to be home by eight on Wednesday as she had something special planned for him. Denny, always grateful whenever Alessa displayed the smallest bit of initiative in their relationship, simply smiled and agreed. She would prepare a nice meal, steak as it was his favorite—maybe broiled, maybe a garlic butter sauce—wear the racy, low v-cut black strappy dress she'd never had the courage to wear, and give him the geode she'd bought.

Wednesday morning, she got up with Denny, but as he went to workout, she got ready for work. Though it was a cold December morning, she wanted to tease him until he was eaten with anticipation, and so she wore her form fitting claret dress with ruffled cap sleeves. Her nude heels made her legs go on forever, and as she was reaching for her overcoat, Denny walked back into the flat, sweaty and still breathing hard. 

He stopped midstride as he took in her alluring form. "Heading out early?" he asked as his hot gaze slid up her body.

Alessa felt the heat rushing up her face. "Yes," she managed to say in a strong voice. "Busy day, and I want to come back after my run at six, so I should get started." She slipped her camel coat on and picked up her bag. "See you there," she said as she kissed his cheek and slipped out before he could grab her. 

Alessa had just stepped off the bus near the office when her phone rang. Before answering, she checked the caller ID. It was Bill, her stepfather. Her stomach instantly sank. She hit the ignore button and slipped the phone back into her pocket. He called around ten, which she again ignored. When he called at two, he left a voicemail, but she didn't want to hear his voice, didn't want to have that dampen her day. The voicemail could wait.

As anticipated, her tight, wine-colored dress did the trick to draw Denny's eye. Whenever he had occasion to talk to her, she caught his eyes wandering over her possessively, thrilling her, spurring her to be coyly flirtatious. And for her actions, she was caught off guard once again in the copy room of the library late that afternoon.

"Hasn't anyone told you there are consequences for flirting?" he asked in a husky voice as he pinned her to the wall. His mouth was dangerously close to hers, and she was mesmerized by the sensual curve of his upper lip, unable to think of anything but the smooth glide of it over hers.

"Flirting? Who me?" she whispered. "Who was I flirting with? I promise, when I laugh at his jokes, it's just to be polite," she teased breathlessly, her body suddenly very ready to come undone in his hands.

Denny gave an annoyed growl at the suggestion that she had flirted with another man and crushed his mouth against hers. For a moment, Alessa opened herself to be ravished, finding that her flirting had done more than arouse just him, that it had also aroused herself. Her fingers were in his hair and her hips were curving around his thigh until voices from somewhere in the library pulled her from the magic of his embrace and into reality. She pulled back and licked his lips once to tantalize him further, though she had every intention of leaving him unsatisfied.

"Now, now, Mr. Ashbury, behave yourself. Or did you forget we are in a place of business?" she reprimanded as she slipped from between the hard wall and his warm body. "I have to get this finished before I leave, or we won't be having my little surprise later," she declared looking over her shoulder at him as she hit the start button, the machine humming to life as a band of light hypnotically slid across her face before quickly returning to the other side.

Denny was getting hard, and he could only think of getting off at the moment. "Fuck," he muttered, though he couldn't keep from smiling, if not a little devilishly, at being had. "Very well, Ms. Allen. Then I'll see you at home." He turned to leave. "And not before," he stated pointedly, warning her that anymore attempts at distracting him would not be welcome.

She raised an eyebrow before nodding. "Very well. At home, then." Alessa didn't even wait for six o'clock before she closed everything down and headed to her gym for a run. She ran faster than was her typical pace, an eager excitement energizing her to perform better. She picked up the last of the ingredients on the way home, and after a quick rinse off in the shower, she dressed in the slinky black dress and set about making a delicious dinner.

She was just pulling out the broiled steaks when her phone rang again. Unsurprisingly, it was her stepfather. She tried to ignore it, but when a text came through, her heart stopped. He wrote that her mother had been taken to the hospital early that morning. It didn't look good. In a flurry of action, Alessa changed out of her provocative dress into jeans and a sweater while texting Denny that dinner was cancelled; her mother was in the hospital. She blew out the candles and left the intended gift sitting at his spot at the table. She hopped in her little car and sped to the Oakland hospital where her mother had been transferred. 

Thankfully by the time Alessa arrived, it was late enough in the evening that the parking lot wasn't overrun with cars and she was able to find a close spot without having to navigate the confusing, desolate underground hallways. She found the directions to the ICU waiting room, and though the hospital had done a commendable job of remodeling the former white, sterile spaces into something mimicking wood and the warmth of home, the frantic pain in her heart wasn't fooled into believing anything but the worst.

"Bill, what's going on?" she asked quickly when she saw him sitting slumped in a large maroon leather chair, ubiquitous of waiting rooms everywhere. 

When he looked up, she saw the red eyes and tears. He looked awful. "Baby, it isn't good," he answered. She ignored the crawl of her skin and focused on finding out information. 

"What happened?"

"I found her this morning," he trembled as he remembered. "She wouldn't wake up. That's when I notice-" he took a shaky breath, tears repooling in his eyes, "her bottle of Tramadol."

"What about it?" her voice questioned, low and hard.

"It was empty. We'd just gotten it refilled yesterday. A month's worth. Ninety of them. Gone."

She couldn't stop the tears immediately springing in her eyes. "What are you saying? She...took them? On purpose? Why? Why would she do that? Why?" she asked, a frantic quality growing in her voice.

He was crying now as he shook his head and stared blindly at his hands. "She didn't want to do it anymore. She wouldn't get a new liver and she didn't want to be sick anymore," he managed to say between his sobs.

"What about her liver?"

"The Lupus, baby, it was killing her liver. There wasn't anything they could do. They couldn't give her a new one because her disease would just kill it, too."

Alessa stood and backed away, feeling suddenly more betrayed than ever. "She knew this? You knew? Why didn't she say anything?"

He lifted his pitiful face, tears soaking his fat cheeks. "She didn't want you to worry, baby." Her skin crawled and her stomach lurched.

"I want to see her. I want to see her, now," she stated firmly.

He took a shaky breath before standing up and wiping his cheeks. He went through a door that marked the entrance to the ICU. In a short minute, he was back with a young woman in scrubs. "She'll take you back. Since you're here, baby, I'm going to go to the diner and get something to eat. Haven't eaten all day. Be back." And with that, he trudged away, his sniffles still audible even after he had rounded the corner and was out of sight.

The young nurse led Alessa through a wide, circular central area with individual rooms around the perimeter. The walls were sliding glass doors so the sleeping patients were visible to the nursing staff. Her mother was on the far side.

Alessa eyes swept around the small cubical. "What is all this stuff?" Her tone emotionless.

"Well, she wasn't breathing on her own when she arrived, so they intubated her," she explained.

Despite the faux wood paneling and soft green curtains, the shrill beep beep beep of the machines, the flashing green and red lights on the monitors, and the whoosh of the respirator machine all kept Alessa rawly rooted to reality.

"Can she hear me?" 

The nurse said nothing at first, before responding with a well-trained smile, "If she can, I'm sure it would do her good to hear your voice." There was another pause as Alessa stared at her mother in the white gown with small blue designs. Her hands were lying cadaverously on top of the white blankets. The only proof that she still live was the stark fact that they were connected to IVs and oximeters. Her mouth was agape, and taped to her lips was a large, invasive plastic tube that ran down her throat. 

"I'll leave you alone with her."

Alessa was vaguely aware that the sliding glass door didn't close completely when the nurse left. She stood in the middle of the small space for an unknown length of time, waiting for something to remove the surreal cruelty of it all. And then she was moved by the need for comfort, her mother's comfort.

"Mom," she whispered as she took a desperate step forward and then another until she was sitting down next to her, her face leaning closer as if to scrutinize the shut eyes, to compel them open. "Mom," and then she shuddered at the pathos heavy in her voice. She reached to take her hand, but paused as she took in the small clip attached to the end of her mother's index finger. Deciding it was harmless, she held her hand, noting how cold it was. It wasn't the lights, she knew, that made her mother appear so yellow. How had she not realized, not put together the last time she saw her how sick she was becoming?

Because she hadn't wanted to face it. Hadn't wanted to accept the possibility. The mortality. The loss. "Mom," she pleaded, suddenly needing nothing more than her mother's smooth hands on her cheeks. She placed her cool hand against her wet face, pressed it against her, but it wasn't the same. It was just a hand. It wasn't full of her mom's love, of her mom.

It was all so unfair, Alessa thought, a desperate helplessness and anger boiling in her chest. The feelings burned her, both warring for the uppermost place in her consciousness. And when the vacillating pull of anger and despair became more than she could handle, she gave up and wept, her head buried against her mother's stomach, her lifeless hand limp against her cheek. She wasn't allowed to sob long, as the young nurse had returned, bringing a box of tissues for her tears and a gentle hand on her shoulder to lead her out. She sat with her in the waiting area while Alessa did her best to stem her tears as-despite the enormity of pain and anger-she didn't feel comfortable enough to blubber in front of a stranger. 

When she seemed somewhat together, the young woman smiled at her, patted her shoulder and left. But Alessa heart was far from calm, a growing fury raising with each broken beat. And the more she thought about the unfairness of her mother's life, the more the blackness churned and rose until hot tears once again flowed from her eyes. She had drawn her feet up to the seat, her forehead resting against her knees while she wrapped her arms around her legs.

"Alessa?" 

Her eyes snapped open. 

"Dad? What are you doing here?"

"Bill called me this afternoon. He was worried because he couldn't get ahold of you. He told me what happened," Alex explained, coming to sit next to her.

Whatever had been brewing inside of her sent electric currents out to surround her, charging the air with the tension in her heart. She sat up, stiff, her feet dropping to the floor. She nodded, trying to engage, not yet aware of her strained response to her father's presence.

"How's she doing?" he asked, placing his arm around her.

She barely shook her head. "Don't know. Not good."

"How are you doing?"

Again the minute shake of her head. "I'm surprised to see you here," she blurted.

"Well, of course. I care about you and your mom."

Her brow wrinkled in disbelieving confusion. "You care about my mom?"

Alex didn't hear the note incredulity in her voice. "Of course. We were married."

"Yeah, but you're not any more. In fact, you did the exact opposite thing you should have done if you had cared about her."

Alex frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"You left her. You left us."

Alex face softened as he lifted his shoulders up in a gentle shrug, his palms turning face up. "But that doesn't mean I stopped caring."

Alessa stood suddenly, spinning round to stand in front of him, her fists forceful at her sides. "How can you say that? How could you have hurt her so horribly and still claim you care about her? You have no idea how miserable her life is and all because you left us!" the hot, furious tears were back. They blurred her vision, and in her ire she swiped angrily at them. At seeing her distress, Alex stood as well, reaching her for her futilely. "No!" she said, pushing his hands away and taking a step back. She clutched her own arms around her middle now, tears refusing to stop pouring down her cheek. "My mother's life has been hell because of your selfishness. My life has been hell because of you! Don't you see that? Don't you get that?"

"Why has your life been so bad?" he asked, saddened and perplexed.

"How can you ask that? Have you no idea how heinous your wife is to me? Don't you see how Shelly treats me? She hates me! She's always hated me and treated me just like the unwanted stepchild. And yet, never, in all these years have you once stood up for me. Once told her that her words were mean and inappropriate."

"Shelly doesn't-"

"Don't you dare fucking deny it!" she hissed, refusing to allow him to avoid seeing the truth. "Every damn thing she says is a caustic, disparaging remark. She either alludes that I'm dumb or not pretty or not good enough to fucking breathe. And the fact that you are so oblivious to it makes me wonder if you don't somehow agree!" she ranted, finally voicing her deep-seated fears.

"Alessa, I know how brilliant—"

"Stop ignoring it! Stop ignoring how she treats me! Stop being so oblivious to how your selfish behavior has hurt me. If you hadn't left, my mom never would have married Bill—" but here she stopped, her arms tightening around her even more as she turned from her father. Alessa's lips were pursed together to keep from saying anything more. Her eyes were closed to shut out the world.

"Alessa, sweetie, talk to me," Alex pleaded.

She only vehemently shook her head, wishing her denial could eradicate reality. She drew in a shaky breath, suddenly even more raw at having torn at her father. "No," she said, shaking her head again. "I don't want to talk about any of that right now." She didn't turn around, but knew she'd have to resolve the matter at hand, if only temporarily. "I don't want you here. I don't need you here. Please, please just go and we can talk about it later. Right now," another shaky, resigning breath, "right now it doesn't matter. I just need to focus on my mom. I'm sorry I brought it up."

Alex was silent before he complied. "Alright, I'll go. But I do want to finish this discussion, to say whatever there is to be said. I hope your mother pulls through," he offered sadly. "At least...at least give me an update? If anything changes?" He waited the several seconds it took for her to nod in agreement. Before he turned to leave, he reached out his hand for her, but it fell away as he simply said, "I love you, Alessa."

Reluctantly, Alex left her, the weight of the pain of his child finally registering and settling deep inside his gut like cold stones. As he headed down the hall and turned the corner to the elevator, he stopped short, suddenly surprised by Denny who had arrived in the middle of their argument and chosen to stay quiet in the shadows. The two men exchange stern expressions, each somehow warning the other to not hurt her before Alex continued on his way.

When Denny heard the ding of the elevator and the swooshing of its doors, he emerged from his hidden position around the corner and slowly walked to her, knowing a hurt animal was a wary and dangerous thing. "Sweetheart," he whispered a moment before he slipped his gentle arms around her. Surprisingly, she didn't push him away, but instantly turned to him, burying her wet face against his chest. He held her while she poured a lifetime of her pain out onto him. He sat with her quietly as she explained through tears all that had happened with her mother and her fears of the worst and how somehow her interaction with her father had diverged into the painful episode he had just witnessed. Denny was patient and tender as he held her, guiding her to the chairs so they could sit and wiping her tears with his thumbs.

Eventually Bill returned and Denny introduced himself to the stepfather whose deeds he knew were responsible for so much of his damaged girl's mentality. It was all he could do to restrain himself to not punch the creep in the face. 

As there would be no news from any doctor for quite some time and her mother appeared stable, Denny took Alessa home. Wordlessly, she undressed and went to bed, while Denny looked around the kitchen. She had planned such a nice evening, but the steaks were cold now, as were the potatoes. He sighed and got busy putting the food into the fridge. Walking through the dining room to join her in bed, he spotted the gift at his place at the table. Denny sat down and eyed it thoughtfully. He gave pause before reaching for it, wondering if he should wait for her to be present. He looked at the tag attached to the pretty silver ribbon.

Because you see me

He opened it slowly, his curiosity now piqued. Denny was surprised to find the breathtaking geode, mesmerized by both its beauty and meaning. He slowly turned it over in his hands, revealing the inner qualities that sparkled dazzlingly even in the dim light. He smiled softly as he sat it down, and then with a weariness born of so many more things than the commonplace life, he went to bed, carefully drawing the sleeping woman into his arms.



Trivial Pursuits Ch. 22



Dear Readers,

Firstly, let me apologize for the length it took for me to get this story finally finished. Despite having it all mapped out, I amazingly surprise myself with how wordy I am (one would think I would learn, but alas...) And secondly let me thank everyone who stuck with this story and continually offered encouragement and critiques that helped sharpen my writing skills. So appreciated!

Lots of things happen in this chapter, but I hope it is a satisfying ending to this damaged woman's journey to accepting love.

As always, give me your feedback; the good, the bad, and the ugly. I promise, I can take it :)

And again, a big thanks to AlreadyTaken for not only her editing skills but giving it to me straight up and pushing me in the right direction (she's the reason it's later than I thought because of the massive amount of rewriting she suggested I do), and to 'Dave'-you know who you are.

Enjoy!

Titania

******

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO





Trivial Pursuits Ch. 22



Alessa gave a nod, her eyes contemplating everything. "Yes, I'll do that. Thank you," she said as she rose to leave. Macrae's warning became an in-moving storm cloud against which Lou's earlier words circled like menacing black birds. Together, they unsettled a mind that had for a moment found peace. Sitting back at her desk, she tried to push the unease away with work, but failed. With something of a huff of determination, she stood up and marched to Denny's office.

Tapping lightly, she walked in to find him on the phone. Though he looked up, he didn't hurry his conversation along, but continued schmoozing whoever was on the other end. Alessa quietly sat herself down, trying again to erase the irksome discomfort with a smile. After several minutes passed, he asked his client to hold on. Placing the phone against his chest he signaled to her to speak.

She just shook her head and whispered. "I just wanted to see if you were free for lunch."

He returned the whisper. "Sorry. Locked in here. I'll have to stay in all afternoon. Maybe dinner?"

She swallowed and nodded as she tried to smile. "Okay, that's fine. Yes, let's order something. I'm sure I have enough work to stay late and keep me busy."

He only nodded, but whatever he was about to say in response was cut off when he turned a smile into the phone. "No, Jeff, I'm still here. Just conferring with a colleague. No, I'm completely on board with the plan," he reassured, turning his chair to look out the window, silently dismissing her.

She blinked, and looked down at her light gray skirt, brushing out the imaginary wrinkles. She stood up and walked, her mind somewhat buzzing, out the door and back to her desk. 

It would be her first run since her mother had died, and she tried to imagine herself as stoic, grabbing her bag and heading to the gym down the street at six on the dot. Emotionlessly, she donned her running shorts and sneakers and stepped on a free treadmill. But it was hard to mute Macrae's voice warning her not to rely on Denny. It was like experiencing a quick drop in the road, her stomach catching in her throat as she visualized Lou's tear-stained face while she claiming no relationship lasts, such a different tune from when she sang how great love was. A tightness started in Alessa's gut as her feet pounded on, even as she tried to reassure herself Denny loved her. 

She could tell she hadn't run in nearly two weeks, stiff muscles slowly stretching to wake and move smoothly. But the burn never gave her that high she had always experienced before. Instead the pain was cranky and biting and somehow tangled with the knot growing in her stomach. She stretched thoroughly, thoughts of dinner with Denny pulling at her in hope.

Alessa rinsed off and headed back to the office, cold and muggy January air causing her to wrap her coat around her more snuggly. She hoped he was finished with his work as she was now tired and ready to head home instead of working longer. Alessa entered his office expectantly, but found him pacing back and forth, but this time speaking into a headset, clearly in a heated debate with whoever was on the receiving end.

She waited, again trying to seem pleasant and patient all the while feeling that sinking in the pit of her stomach. Rather angrily telling the other person to hold, Denny muffled the phone against his chest as he explained in a rather clipped tone that he wouldn't be free for some time.

"If you want, you can go on home. I don't think I'll be finished here for several hours still," he explained, his frustration seeping into his voice.

"Oh, okay. Yeah, I think I will. Run was a bit tiring and I'm pooped. I'll see you at home," she said in a tone that sounded more like a question. He simply nodded before turning back to his animated discussion. Again, she was wordlessly dismissed, and again she felt the disappointment settle rather anxiously inside her.

Feeling a headache growing, she put herself in a cab and took two ibuprofen when she reached their condo. She took a hot bath before slipping on the nightgown she had worn at Thanksgiving. The pain in her head eased away, but as the minutes ticked into hours and the hours in to a seeming eternity, she could only think of the comfort his arms would bring as she waited for him to come home. She stayed awake until after midnight, but she had fallen asleep before he had ever returned home. 

Unfortunately, a major client was being sued by a group of its employees, and so for the next few weeks, dinner cancellations, working weekends, and late nights at the office turned into a way of life. The effort they had initially put in to finding ways to connect since she'd moved in seemed like a habit of the past as they saw very little of each other outside the office, and Denny seemed too tired to spend any time in with her. In the bed or out. 

The creeping unease Lou's words had placed in her mind after her own break up was driving Alessa to desperation to be with Denny. But as she found herself alone in bed late one Friday night she promised herself she would get what she needed, even if she had to tie him down. 

She was awoken sometime after one a.m. when he finally slipped into bed. Smiling in her half-sleeping state, she rolled over in his arms and began running her mouth over his chest and neck. He moaned only a moment before finding her mouth with his. Though the kiss was pleasant, he pulled away in what she thought was too short a time before placing a chaste kiss on her forehead.

"I'm so tired, you cannot even imagine," he stated drowsily before yawning, his body now still against hers. Sleepily, Alessa blinked as she realized he was again silently dismissing her interest. She frowned as she tried to think back to the last time they had actually had sex.

"Mm, Denny," she moaned, stirring her mouth against him again in an attempt to arouse him. "Please, I miss you."

He sighed, his hands stilling her slowly writhing body. "I miss you too, but not tonight, Sweetheart. M'too tired." And then he guided her to turn over so he could spoon her and effectively curb her ability to kiss or touch him. In an unhappy strop, she sighed, but was so overcome with fatigue herself that she didn't have long to dwell on it before she fell back asleep.

It was nearly eight in the morning when the sounds of another rustling about the room woke her up. Feeling somewhat refreshed, she rubbed her eyes and sat up. Denny was slipping on his shoes.

"Morning," she said with a smile.

"Hey, morning, Sweetheart," he answered without turning around. He stood and left the room. Alessa half lay there as she listened for him. She could vaguely make out the sounds of the espresso machine spitting out his morning coffee. A few minutes later he briskly walked back into the bedroom carrying his travel mug to snatch up his briefcase. She was sitting on the edge of the bed by this time, realizing that he must be leaving.

"Bye, Sweetheart," he said, coming to her side quickly to give her a fast peck on the lips.

"You're going to the office again? I wanted to spend the day with you."

"I'm sorry. Me too, but I've got to work." Alessa was fast in snatching his collar to keep his mouth on hers. She tried to lick his lips to have them open up, but he struggled to pull away. "I've gotta go. Maybe I can bring dinner home tonight."

"Tonight?" she asked disheartened. "No, I want you now," she whined, pulling at him again while vining her right leg behind his left one. "Stay with me. Make love to me," she begged huskily.

Denny relented only a moment, kissing her a little more thoroughly, but when her hands found the buttons of his shirt, he pulled away completely. "I can't," he restated more firmly, a slight scowl on his brow. "I have to get back to the office. I don't have time for this." She was frowning up at him, and in exasperation he clipped at her, "I can't spend all my time with you."

"You haven't had time for me a lot lately."

"That's not true. I've been very supportive of you. But I have to work right now. I can't just fuck you whenever you want," he stated in irritation.

Her eyes grew round and her jaw dropped open at his mean crudeness. She hopped up, coming chest to chest. Her expression was furious. "That's not how you acted when I wanted nothing to do with you! You wouldn't keep your hands off me. Kept pawing at me all the time when I didn't want you. And now what? Now that I've given it up you've got better things to do?"

"It's not like that," he denied, his temper rising with hers. He didn't want to have a fight. Not with her. Not at that moment, and so he began moving towards the door. She chased after him.

"It's exactly like that! I don't know why you wanted me to move in with you if you can't be with me when I want you or when I need you! I guess I'm just easier access for you when it suits you!"

"That's bullshit," he seethed in growing frustration.

"The hell it is. It's always about you, on your time, when you want it, regardless of how I feel."

"Don't give me that crap. You want it too. Clearly," he remarked derisively as he dramatically swept his arm over her alluring night gown. "You always have. You were just too much of a coward to do anything about it. Face it. Without me you'd still be that frightened, uptight, screwed up woman trying to bury herself in work to avoid her fucked up family and any relationship of worth."

Alessa took a sharp intake of breath, her pained and mortified expression telling Denny he'd gone too far. He let out a frustrated sigh. "Listen, I'm sorry," he offered lamely. "But I do have to get to work; you know how it is. We can finish this discussion when I get back, alright?"

"Why bother?" she asked still tense. "What else is there to say unless you have more insults to sling my way? You don't have time for me. Correction: you won't make time for me. Period. I get it. End of discussion."

He stared hard at her a few seconds before he simply turned and left. As he rode the elevator down, it crossed his mind that it was ironic that their first official fight had started because she wanted sex and he didn't and had ended with him running away instead of her. Hell, he thought pinching the bridge of his nose, it wasn't that he didn't want sex and he wasn't running away; he just didn't have the time for it. Once at work and heaped in the mess his client hadn't gotten itself in, he eventually forgot about their fight, though the agitation it had generated seemed to stay, powering him to hard ball his way through his work.

For Alessa, however, their fight, and more importantly the cause of it, was far from her mind. It ripped into the very thing she had been warned about and always feared. She had fallen in love and begun to need someone who wasn't there for her. And while she admitted that she had been unfair as Denny had been extremely caring and available to her as she dealt with her mother's death, it seemed as though his actions at the time only conditioned her to be more dependent upon him, now leaving her in a lurch when he had to tend to other things.

She was held suspended in a relationship she had no control in, and whether or not she would ever again get what she wanted was not to be known. She was trapped, but now, thanks to Denny's education, she understood the feeling, but had no release for them. She had nowhere to run, nowhere to go, and he wasn't there to lend his support or provide a therapeutic release. She was now trapped in the home of the very person she wanted to escape. The claustrophobic fear that realization spun was more intense than ever before. 

As the panic grew in her, she started to shake and pace, the manic urge to claw her skin tickling viciously in her fingertips. The residual turmoil from their fight coupled with this new growing anxiety was enough to bring tears of frustration to her eyes. The tightness in Alessa's chest made it hard to breathe.

She couldn't do it, she realized. She couldn't live day to day not knowing when the bottom would fall out, not trusting that in the next moment he would finally crush her heart, that despite any affection she had for him and he for her, it wouldn't be enough. She would end up broken, just like her mother.

Alessa had been crying on the couch until that thought stunned her like lightning. She sat up and wiped her face. She knew now that her relationship with Denny was like gangrene, which would slowly take over her whole life and kill her if she didn't stop it. If she wanted to live, she would have to do the impossible: cut Denny out.

The pain that thought produced was proof enough to her that she was already too deeply infected. Her tears returned in full force, and while she laid on the couch, mourning the loss of Denny as she had her mother, she resolved to never allow him to crush her. For the rest of the day, Alessa did her best to reel in her spinning emotions, to pull back all that she had let haphazardly escape. She went for a long run, setting a pace and focusing on her footsteps. She cleaned his apartment, though the housekeeping service had been there on Tuesday. All the while she started planning an escape.

When Denny came home that evening, he had remembered to do as promised, and brought take out from her favorite Korean restaurant. It was painful, like thousands of tiny lacerations deep in her skin, sitting next to him as they silently ate.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Denny said calmly when he had finished his food.

Alessa set her chopsticks down before looking up. She gazed at him a moment before she gently shook her head. "No." 

At first Denny didn't believe her. She had been more enraged that morning than he'd ever seen her. There was no way she had let go of her fury so easily. He narrowed his eyes at her as he leaned in closer. "Are you lying to me?" he challenged, hoping to goad her into a response. 

But again, her eyes turned to him. They were docile. Unaffected. "No," she said with something of a relenting sigh. "I'm not lying. I don't want to talk about it anymore."

Denny studied her as she turned her focus back to her plate. Her expression had been composed and...decided, he thought. The typical caged-bird panic was gone. She didn't appear to be irritated or even hurt as he knew she had been before he left.

He frowned lightly as he stood to get more wine, completely at a loss as to how to interpret her unpredicted change in attitude. Had he hurt her so much that she...what? Lost her passion for him? Understood how much pressure he was under at work and felt guilty for demanding so much of his time? He grimaced, knowing that wasn't the case. Then what?

He continued studying her, and after dinner they pulled out the Nintendo, which they hadn't played since she'd moved in. After almost an hour, she stated she was tired. Denny ran a finger down her arm as she stood from the couch.

"As I recall, you were begging me to do something this morning," he teased, hoping to somehow break through the awkward wall of ice she'd put up since he'd returned home.

She turned to look down at him, and for a moment, he thought he saw a crack in her veneer. But it was only a splint second, gone before he knew what it was. She smiled tiredly, almost sadly. "I'm really tired. I got kinda busy today and wore myself out."

He knew she wasn't mocking him, just throwing his words back. Once they were settled in bed, Alessa allowed him to pull her into his arms as they went to sleep, but did not seek any more contact than that. Denny wondered what fragile thing he had broken.

Sunday was fairly uneventful, her quiet, detached manner still pervasive in their interactions. In an effort to do something that she would enjoy and bring her out of her strange mood, Denny suggested they go to the bookstore in Russian Hill. For a minute, Alessa bit her tongue to hold back the caustic observation that he didn't have time to sleep with her but he had plenty of time to read. But it was a fruitless retort in a relationship she was determined to no longer invest in. And though she was initially prejudiced against the bookstore, she found a thoroughly used copy of an Edith Wharton, though Denny walked away empty handed. 

And again, that evening when Denny attempted to seduce her, she had a laudable excuse. On Monday, Denny had an early conference call, and so left even earlier than was typical for Alessa. 

She took the bus in to work and hung up her trench coat. She made a cup of coffee and fired up her computer. Scanning through emails that required immediate attention, Alessa tended to them first. Once urgent issues were dealt with, she pulled out her phone book and dialed Hyun-Joong's number.

"Alessa, to what do I owe the pleasure of your call?" he asked the moment he picked up, having clearly read the caller I.D.

"Haven't caught you at a bad time, have I?"

"Actually, I am glad you called. Remember the attorney I was complaining about?"

"Oh? Has something happened? You never mentioned a name."

"Well his name is Mitch Simpson and he has got to go. I was thinking of calling Denny today. This man is an idiot. Should never have been assigned here."

"What has he done?"

"What hasn't he done? He's not only personally offended the Director of Foreign Investments at KHB Financial, he has been going out to clubs more and more."

"Clubs?"

Hyun-Joong sighed. "Clubs known for...well for providing people with the opportunity to experiment. Sexually. Several people think he's getting in deep. And after reports of his behavior this weekend, well, I'm afraid of not only how it looks for both our companies, but that he may do something and overstep a legal line. Maybe drugs. Maybe prostitution. I'm not sure, but it's bad."

Alessa's eyes darted around the office as she sat more erect at her desk. "Um, listen. That's kind of good actually, at least, it plays into why I've called."

"Oh really? And what's that? Need an invite to a kinky club?"

"No," she hissed disapprovingly. "Listen, I've reconsidered and I wondered if you were serious when you asked if I'd come over to the Wiles, Mayer, and Schecter branch in Seoul to work with your firm."

"Absolutely. Wait. Are you saying you're willing to move over here for the secondment?"

"I'm considering it. But...but I'm not sure."

There was silence nearly ten full seconds.

"And what about Denny?"

"What about him? You were the one who asked if I wanted to give up my career for a guy."

"No," he corrected slowly. "I asked why you'd give up your career for some casual fling. You were the one who insisted it was more than that. And I doubt it's changed in a month." Alessa didn't have an immediate reply. "Alessa, what's happened between you two?"

"Not much. Only what I suppose would have to happen eventually. And it made me realize I want to focus on my career. I don't want to settle."

There was silence again as he thought about it. "Well, I don't know how you're going to manage it. I mean, Denny handles my account. He's in charge. I doubt he'll let you come. Especially if there's been some sort of fall out between you two."

"Denny isn't in charge. Yes, he may handle your account, but you are the firm's client. And with an issue like this, one that is about personnel misrepresenting the firm and our client, this will require not only upper management discipline but also...HR to find a suitable replacement," she informed him, ideas falling beautifully into place. "But that's if you still want me. I mean—" 

"I know. Not as my girlfriend," he cut her off with a laugh, knowing what she meant. "If it's what you want, then yeah. You'll be infinitely better than this moron. I've got to send him home immediately regardless if you or anyone else takes his place. Though," he paused.




Trivial Pursuits Ch. 22



"Yes?" she finally urged him, biting her thumbnail, her eyes still casting about to make sure she wasn't overheard.

"Alessa, you're a great lawyer, and I'm sure you'll impress the hell out of me when you get here, but Denny's my friend. Since college. I don't want this to cause a fall out with him."

Alessa could feel her cheeks heat up with embarrassment. She cleared her throat. "It won't. Denny's a good lawyer, and if he knows our relationship isn't working out, he'll be professional enough to let me work. In fact," she stated with a sour look on her face, "he might be happy to be rid of me. It'll be better this way," she ended softly, for a moment faltering in her conviction.

Hyun-Joong eventually sighed and agreed he would back her choice. They agreed Denny should be notified, and Hyun-Joong agreed to call him and let him know about the need to replace Mr. Simpson. She said her good-byes and expressed her gratitude and turned her attention to the next phase: gaining more backing.

Alessa IMed Macrae, asking to speak with her whenever she had a free moment. As luck would have it, Macrae said she could see her at three. And not a second after, Alessa was at her door, bringing her very unusual request to her.

Macrae was silent a very long time, her classic stoic expression studying Alessa in excruciating intensity. "What has brought this about?" she finally asked.

Alessa attempted to hide any emotional root for her decision but she squirmed ever-so-slightly in her seat and turned her chin in that uneasy manner she didn't realize she had.

"Because of my friendship with Mr. Park, and the fact that he trusts me, he shared his concerns. The conversation eventually led way to who would replace Mr. Simpson. As I have always dreamed of working in Seoul, which is why I studied the Korean language and culture in school, and one of the major draws for accepting a position here, I mentioned that I would be a candidate. Mr. Park was in agreement that he would look forward to working with me. So while I insisted he inform Mr. Ashbury of the developments with Mr. Simpson—as it is his account—I thought I would speak with you, as director of HR, to ask for your support once the search for a replacement begins." 

"Of course, I will need to discuss Simpson's alleged actions directly with Mr. Park, but if what you've said about him is correct, then yes, he needs replacing. However, he hasn't been under internal investigation and no accusations are currently being looked into. Not to mention this is Denny's client. It isn't protocol for me to replace anyone on his team—"

"I'm not asking you to do that. Just that when the time comes for the senior partners and HR to decide upon a suitable replacement, that you back me. And as Director of Human Resources, your vote will have perhaps the single greatest amount of weight. 

"And let's face it, if Denny opposes my placement, it will be for personal reasons only, not professional. After all, I am certain that if we hadn't been involved I would have been the prime candidate. He has already touted me on multiple occasions to not only the senior partners but to numerous influential clients as well. I am the best applicant for this job."

Alessa was satisfied with her argument, but for a brief moment she didn't think it had worked. Macrae sat back in her plush, cream leather office chair. Her hands were folded across her slim middle as she unnervingly rocked back and forth. 

"Fine," she said in a seemingly burst of energy. "I'll agree to this, but with one major modification to your plan."

Alessa's eyebrow raised in guarded curiosity.

"If the rest of the team agree, I think it best to send you for only two weeks. Normally, this sort of secondment goes by a year to year contract, but I think the first order of business isn't to replace Simpson. Instead, the prime directive will be to ascertain any damage our firm or Kyohan has suffered because of his actions, to devise a strategy to repair it and then to more accurately assess just who is the best fit there. I know you think you are the only one who could excel there, but that's not entirely true. At the moment there are several others with more seniority than you who could do just as fine a job. After this latest kerfuffle, I don't want to rush into any permanent decisions until we know absolutely they are the right one.

"And if you are ultimately chosen to extend your time at the Seoul office, how quickly could you be ready to move there? A month? Two?"

It was working. Judith Macrae had given her the keys to open the door to another life. She just had to be ready to shut the door on the one she was currently living. "Theoretically, I could stay there, with no need to return."

Macrae's response was subdued and studious. "That's extremely fast. And extremes in this business are often the by-products of a rushed decision. Not always the right one. Bags already packed?"

"Not exactly. I moved in with Denny. Most of my stuff is in storage. I'm sure I can box what I don't immediately need and have a shipping service take care of it. I think I can get away with a few of my favorite outfits and buy some new things there," she replied, having clearly already thought that far. "And as far as my case work goes, I've already analyzed those cases and tasks that I can continue from Seoul, and the ones I cannot can be handed back to the others who took them over while I was away."

Macrae nodded at the amazing gall of the young woman before. "And you haven't told Denny?"

Alessa silently pondered her options before replying. "No. I think it's best if we wait. He doesn't see it yet. Wouldn't understand." 

Macrae's lips pursed in thought. "We'll compile our suggestions so everyone who'll be part of the process can have a chance to give each candidate ample thought. He'll need to know—" 

Just then, her phone rang and she only looked briefly at the caller I.D. before holding out a finger and picking it up. "Hello Denny."

Alessa's eyes grew wide before she caught the reflex and forced herself to relax. While Macrae carried on the conversation with the junior partner, Alessa was only able to discern half of what they were saying, none of it making any sense. When Macrae hung up, she leaned forward on her elbows, folding her hands. She was looking off to the side in astonishment, a wry smile slowly dawning on her perfect, world-famous lips.

"Well," she began slowly, "it seems Mr. Park has called Denny to let him know the situation in Seoul. But Denny says he's too swamped with the Clarko account to deal with the replacement directly. He's putting Mitch Hanson on it since Mitch is the second on the account. Denny stated he wants a decision by the end of the week and the board's approval. Well, it looks like you may just sneak this one past him before he knows what hit him." Though she said it with a certain amount of pride and amazement in her voice, there was also just under it all, a barely discernible tone of disapproval.

"Sure you don't want to tell him?"

It was too unnerving, her quickly formed plan falling so easily into place. Alessa shook her head, tears so close on the other side of her eyes. "It's best if we wait, I think, so we don't have to deal with the fallout while we try doing everything else. If Denny doesn't want to be informed who the candidates are until one is chosen, then no personal relationship should alter the course of business."

Macrae sighed after a time. "You realize you're asking me to secretly replace personnel on his team while simultaneously facilitating his girlfriend dumping him. Denny's my friend, don't forget. You're treating him kinda shitty."

Alessa considered her words. "Yeah, I guess I am. But he'll get over it," she responded almost bitterly. "But I'm not so sure I would."

Navigating her way through the chaotic log flow that was her personal and professional colliding lives, Alessa worked silently without Denny's knowledge of her plans to leave. Thankfully, though he claimed to be making headway with the client being sued, he still worked extremely long hours. And though he hinted he was interested in sex, he didn't push, allowing her to avoid it without much ado.

And though no guarantees were made that she would be selected for the two week assignment to Seoul, Alessa proceeded as if it were etched in stone. After all, what other choice did she have? As she went about the tasks the would ready her to leave at the end of the week, she began preparing those nearest to her, except Denny, that she wasn't likely to return any time soon. She first broke the news to her family, mildly detailing the steps in her assignment, stating that although officially it would only be for two weeks, she was likely to be chosen to make the permanent move. Her father had invited her out for an impromptu mid week dinner. Despite the excitement Cadence had at first shown, the young girl began to realize how far Alessa was moving and the implications that had for how often she would get to see her sister. After dinner while the two sisters washed the dishes, Alessa tried to get her to talk about her soured mood.

With tears in her eyes, Cadence accused her of leaving her and begged her to stay. She asked how she could leave Denny, to which Alessa simply replied they were breaking up. That news received an equal amount of crying, her young, romantic heart not yet able to cope so easily with the loss of an ideal.

Alessa didn't respond to Cadence's hysterics on breaking up with Denny, not wanting to lie but not wanting to tell the truth. Instead, with her skilled tongue, she was able to coax her younger sister into seeing her change of location was more exciting than sad. Alessa promised she'd come home as often as allowable and hinted that maybe Cadence could come and see her. That dried Cadence's eyes somewhat, and when Cadence hugged her, Alessa felt a sharp pain in her chest, knowing she probably wouldn't see her sister for several years; Shelly would never allow Cadence to travel so far just to see her.

"Oh, wait!" Cadence said when Alessa got up to leave. It had been a remarkably pleasant evening, but it was time to say goodnight and goodbye, and she was trying to leave before she cried. "Don't go. I want to give you something," and then on her long, skinny legs, she bounded upstairs. She was back in a minute, an envelope in her hand.

"What is it?"

"Don't open it yet. Open it at the airport."

Alessa shrugged. "Okay. Thanks, Octo. Love you. I'll call as soon as I settle. We'll Skype," she promised, taking her head in her hands to kiss her forehead. Pulling away from the curb for a moment made her reconsider, but she knew she couldn't stay, no matter how many other relationships she had to sacrifice in her escape.

The other difficult goodbye was when she told Lou over lunch on Wednesday. It followed her morning meeting with Mitch Hanson, in which, though he didn't say it in so many words, he seemed to imply she was the best suited for the position and could look forward to the placement. With that confidence, she met her friend and finally detailed her hopes of not only leaving on a two week business trip, but a permanent station there.

"But you can't tell anyone," she informed her. "It's sort of a secret. At least until Friday when I leave."

"Why? Because of the Simpson fall out?"

"Partly," Alessa tried say, reluctant to detail that she was leaving in order to effectively break up with Denny.

But Lou wasn't to be fooled. "And what's the other part?"

Alessa squirmed until she realized the behavior must indicate something about what she still felt for Denny. "I'm breaking it off with Denny." Her blunt statement caught Lou off-guard. 

She blinked, shaking her head. "Come again? Why on earth would you do that? For this job?"

Alessa could sense Lou's disapproval, that romantic sensibility overriding reality. "It isn't that easy. It's complicated, but the long and short of it is yes, for my career I'm willing to make a few sacrifices. A short-lived relationship is easily one of them," Alessa replied with condescension in her voice.

"What is wrong with you?" Lou asked in disbelief. "What makes you think it's short-lived?"

"They all are, aren't they?" she answered with a question of her own, her eyebrow lifting to add insult to her insinuating words. 

Lou sat back as if she'd actually been punched. "You are a barmy bitch, you know that?" she responded with a disdainful shake of her head. Alessa recoiled at the harsh insult, but Lou didn't relent. "This decision isn't about your career. It's about you being scared. You two are in love. Not some light infatuation or attraction. Something real with a chance at a happy life together, but what do you do? Run away to live alone and empty all the while stupidly thinking you're protecting yourself."

Alessa's jaw set hard with the old, familiar accusation that she was once again running away. "That isn't true. I'm doing this for my career. I am looking to the future."

"That's rubbish. You're running from the present in fear of a made up future and all in the pretense of taking control of your life. Moving to Korea isn't for your career. Stop trying to passing that lie off as the truth. Or do you actually believe it?" Lou continued to question with that pervasive derision in her voice. "Don't do it, Alessa. Don't leave."

"Well, with friends like you, it's hard to imagine I'd ever want to leave," Alessa responded sourly as she stood from the table. She quickly tossed a twenty on the table to cover her portion. "I'd say, 'see you at the office,' but now I wonder what'd be the point. Goodbye." And she walked off, grabbing her coat from the rack as she passed by on her way out the door.

Alessa sat at her desk staring blankly at her computer screen. She fumed at Lou's nerve. Well, she consoled herself, their fight made leaving all that much easier. Bearing through Thursday was nearly impossible for Alessa as she had to deal with the rising tension between herself and Denny, and finish the last of her work duties while trying to avoid Lou. She seemed to be digging a deeper and lonelier hole for herself. 

Late Thursday, Macrae called her into the office, updating Alessa on the progress of the few involved in selecting a delegate to leave for Seoul. Apparently, Alessa thus far had Mr. Hanson's vote, and with her own backing, the few deciding senior partners were likely to okay at least the two week trip the following morning.

"Are you ready to go if needed? You'll need to be there Monday morning."

"How about I fly out tomorrow afternoon and get started immediately."

Macrae stared coolly at her a moment. "I would be careful to temper that enthusiasm," she warned. "It's beginning to come across as desperate. But I see no problems with that, provided the travel department can book the flight and find accommodations on such short notice."

"At the risk of sounding desperate, I would appreciate it. Tomorrow, if I am chosen, Denny will know at that point that I'm leaving. I can't stay with him anymore. I just want to go."

"The senior partners will decide tomorrow just before lunch. I imagine Denny will be informed soon thereafter who Hanson suggested and who the partners agreed to."

Alessa looked down at her lap, scheming silently. "I think I will need to take tomorrow off. I can come in at noon to receive any documents I will need so I can prepare myself over the weekend."

"You can still back out of this. He never has to know you considered leaving him."

"I haven't just considered it. I've decided," Alessa spoke determinedly, hoping she could fool herself and her slipping resolve. Macrae's eyebrow lifted as she tilted her head in concession.

"Very well, come and see me then by one tomorrow. If anything changes, I'll text you."

Alessa could only shake her head, before thanking the senior partner for her support and left. Alessa returned home that evening, placing her out of season clothing in a suitcase. She made arrangement for the mailing company to arrive at nine in the morning to take the boxes of stuff she would have to pack the moment Denny left the apartment in the morning.

Alessa had been so focused on her escape plan that she had been able to push away any rising frissons of panic at the thought of leaving him. But her resolve was finally tested their last evening together. Since their fight, Alessa had done her best to remain unaffected by his presence or absence, frequently occupying herself with brushing up on her Korean and reviewing the details of Kyohan's business in order to prepare for her work in Seoul. But Denny seemed to be growing restless, and that night as they lay in bed, her mind filled with the thousand tasks she would have to pull off seamlessly the following day, she was startled at the touch of his fingers at her back.

And it felt so good to be touched.

So quickly-just like that-she was stirred. And not just sexually, but for the physical comfort that he had conditioned her to enjoy. Need. Seek. Alessa almost burst into tears at the ache of denying herself the solace of his arms.

"I know you're awake," he said softly, entreating her to talk to him.

"Mmm," she managed to hum in confirmation. "So tired, but my mind's full of stuff to do," she admitted.

"Tell me about it," he asked, putting a firm hand on her arm and gently turning her to him. She didn't resist much and followed his guidance to turn over on her other side so she faced him. He didn't move, but the small amount of space between them radiated with his heat, enveloping her, drawing her senses in. She closed her eyes against the alluring sensation of his warm hand cupping her cheek.

"Sweetheart," he seemed to plead.

Her eyes fluttered open, her heart breaking until she couldn't breathe. "Tell me what's going on, please." But she could only bite her bottom lip as her throat clogged with a painful lump. "I'm sorry, Sweetheart," he said, pulling her closer so he could kiss her forehead. "We never talked about it, but I know I hurt you. I'm sorry," he whispered again. And there, wrapped in his arms, her hands on his bare chest and his hands threaded through her hair to cradle her head against him, she felt the dam of control that had held back her anguished tears break. Alessa sobbed against him, wanting desperately to change her mind, to stay in his arms as long as life would allow. 

Somehow, once drained of the pain, she fell asleep cuddled against him. When she woke in the early morning, he was just rousing from sleep himself. She opened her eyes into his, her mind quickly reconnecting with her plan and for a split second she saw she could still turn back; she could stay. 

She blinked and put her hand to her head. "I don't feel so well," she stated.

Denny frowned and reached out a hand, laying the back of it tenderly against her forehead. "You don't necessarily feel warm," he murmured thoughtfully.

"I don't think that's a very scientific way to monitor someone's temperature," she muttered, attempting to sound miserable. 

He gave a half-grin. "Maybe not. Think you can make it?"

"I don't know. I think I better sit this one out. If I feel better tomorrow I can go in to the office and get some stuff done," she suggested. 

Denny looked at her a minute before shrugging. "Okay," and then he was throwing his blankets off and getting out of bed. 

Alessa lay quietly as he went about his morning routine to get ready for the day. Before he left, he came back to her and kissed the curve of bone above her eye. "Feel better, Sweetheart." And then he was gone. With the shutting of the front door, Alessa flipped a switch, turning off her traitorous heart, which had just the night before begged her to stay. That allowed her to move quickly through the day, filling the boxes for shipping and having them picked up, showering, packing her bags, all of it effectively returning Denny's life to reset as if she had never entered it. With a final look about the place, she tried to see it through a clinical lens, to ensure nothing was left behind or out of place, and not allowing heartbreaking sentimentality to cloud her vision.




Trivial Pursuits Ch. 22



When she reached the firm's office floor, Alessa headed for Judith Macrae's office. The door was open and Macrae motioned her in when she peaked her head around the door frame. "Have a seat," she instructed as she pulled out the paperwork that would be filed once Alessa had spent the two weeks in Seoul and everyone was in agreement of the new placement. As Alessa had hoped, the partners agreed to send their up and coming associate to analyze the Seoul situation and possibly prime her to take the position there.

"And does he know yet?" she asked carefully, her eyes lifting from the papers she was signing.

"I sent an email to those on the Kyohan team after the partner's meeting. Whether or not he's read, I don't know."

Alessa nodded, suddenly not know if Denny knew or not beginning to crawl up her spine like a thousand ants. Just then Macrae's IM chimed. "Speaking of the devil," she said, one corner of her mouth drawing up as she read who it. "Looks like he's on his way."

Just then Alessa's own phone chimed as well, indicating she'd received a text. The two women gazed at each other, Alessa refusing to acknowledge his personal connection to her anymore. Then a knock at the door and Denny was bursting in without waiting to be summoned.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize-" but then he did realize the woman meeting with Macrae was Alessa. Quickly assessing the situation, Denny surmised there was more to his girlfriend's surprising assignment in Seoul than met the eye.

"So it's true? Alessa's going to Seoul for two weeks?"

"Denny, have a seat. Now that you have a few minutes away from your other client, perhaps we can update you with the Seoul situation." When he had done as suggested, though his dangerous and studious gaze didn't leave Alessa, Macrae continued on. "When Alessa was informed of the situation with Simpson—from Mr. Park himself—she requested to replace him."

Denny's expression indicated he understood Alessa was asking to live in Seoul and thereby effectively leave him, and that he didn't like it. "Really?"

"Yes, however I believe the situation needs a different approach, someone on the ground there who can assess the damage, affect a plan to recover publicly if needed, and then assess who could best replace Simpson there. At the moment, I'm only suggesting Alessa go for two weeks on this assignment."

"And why not me? Why not tell me?" he asked crossly, at last taking his gaze from Alessa and turning it to his boss.

"Firstly, you precluded the need to know anything about who the replacement would be when you passed the duties of finding a replacement off to Hanson. Secondly, you are too busy at the moment with other clients to be able to sacrifice the time yourself. And though there were a few others who could have done a competent job, Alessa was the best candidate. Not to mention she seemed to want it more than any of the others."

"Really?" Denny said as he again turned dangerous expression back to Alessa.

"After all, who knows the culture and language as well as she does, not to mention is as a gifted and up-and-coming associate, per your own words?"

"Your turning a pretty argument, counselor, but don't start playing semantics with me. You know very well why I should have been informed my fucking girlfriend was asking to be reassigned fifty-five-hundred miles away." Denny's anger was palpable. "And then you didn't give me the opportunity to put my vote in on this?" He turned his gaze on Alessa. "And you." His tone, though he had actually called her nothing, felt derogatory and condemning. "How long have you have been planning this? Is that what all this has been about? You were just using me?"

His accusation was another insult. She turned on him, her eyes a mixture of indignation, annoyance, and hurt. "You really think you can ask me that?"

Denny stared at her a long moment before grinding out to Macrae that he would like a word in private with his associate. He stood and strode furiously from the room. Alessa looked at Macrae who only tilted her head in a manner that seemed to say she'd better do as asked. Reluctantly, she stood and followed him out of the office and down the hall to one of the smaller conference rooms. Denny held the door open for her and shut it forcefully behind her before flicking a switch to lower all the blinds so no curious eye could look in through the glass walls.

When she had entered, it took her a moment to slowly turn to face him. And when she did, she found him leaning back against the wall, arms folded across his chest, his expression hard. He said nothing.

At last, unnerved beyond the point she could fake her confidence she spoke. "Well, you wanted to see me. What do you want to say?"

"Oh, there are a million things I could say, such as 'what are you thinking?', 'what has gotten into you?', or 'when were you planning on telling me?' But we both know what I'd say. I'd much rather hear what you have to say."

Here it was, the explanation. And just as she opened her mouth to speak, she knew it was too much to hope that it would be complete enough to satisfy him, allowing her to leave peacefully.

"I'm leaving."

"I gathered. Care to explain why?"

"The job in Seoul is a dream come true. Everything I've wanted from my career, at least at this stage."

"So much of a dream it's worth sacrificing everything you have here?"

"I have nothing here," she stated with confidence, though her heart beat so loud it reverberated through her ears. She felt flush.

"I see. Nothing." Denny's jaw clenched and he looked away from her. "Are you back to lying to yourself?" he asked his gaze coming back to hers in challenge.

She swallowed before lifting her chin higher. "I'm not lying. Thank you for your time, for...teaching me everything that you have, but I've realized I'd much rather focus on a career than a relationship."

"Thank you? Teaching you?" Denny repeated in disbelief. He shoved away from the wall and marched toward her. He reached for her but stopped short when she took a stricken step back, her face contorting in anguish. His open hand tightened slowly into a clenched fist before falling to his side.

"I don't understand how you can leave? You're running away again, only this time, you're running from the one person in the world who would do anything to help you, protect you. Haven't I proven myself to you? Fuck's sake, Alessa, I'm in love with you, and you want to leave? For a fucking job?"

"Yes." 

"What has happened?" he questioned, truly confused and angry and hurt.

She opened her mouth to tell him the truth, but she restrained herself. "There is enough money in our account to finish with this month's bills. I've already had them change the account of my next deposit. My stuff's gone from your place, so you shouldn't be bothered with any of it. It was enjoyable while it lasted, but it's time we both moved on. Goodbye." 

She trembled from the effort of holding herself back, before she stepped past him quickly. She intended to finish it, to leave him, but the strong hand slamming against the door just as she reached for the handle kept her from a quick escape. 

Denny's voice was warm against her neck, his breathing harsh. "You love me, too. I know you do. How can you do this to yourself? What will you have when you leave? A twelve-hour-a-day job? That won't make the bad things go away. It won't hold you at night when you're cold and alone. It won't sit with you when you're old and gray. It won't love you back. Don't you see that? Your work won't fulfill you. Not completely. What are you running from?" he asked again. "What are you pursuing? I'm right here. All you will ever need. I'm right here."

"Who the hell are you to decide you are enough for me?"

"Because you are enough for me. We are enough for each other. That's the sort of love this is. It's everything."

Alessa turned to him, her eyes large and shining with unshed tears. But her mouth tightened and a stern, determined look shadowed her expression. "You're wrong. I never said I loved you." Technically, it was true, she had never told him how she felt, but he interpreted it as she'd hoped. Defeated, his hand fell away as he stood erect. She opened the door and quickly walked out, his injured expression more than she could take.

Returning to Macrae's office, she stated she was ready to leave, and taking the last of the senior partner's instructions, along with some unwanted advice, she headed for the elevators and a new life free of Denton Ashbury. It would be better, this new life, she continually reassured herself, forcing images of her new position and lifestyle in Seoul, imagining a new running route and exploring her new city. She would survive happily without him. Life wouldn't pale without him, it would flourish, free of the tether of being someone's girlfriend, someone's lover. Someone's love.

Alessa angrily sighed at herself, shaking her head and determining to put her experiment into love out of her mind. It was nearing three-forty-five, and as her flight was scheduled for a six-thirty departure, she focused on the protocols and procedures of a large international airport, the self-check-ins and security checks. Thankfully, she had no luggage to check as all the items she could immediately do without would be shipped to her in Korea. She arrived at her gate with plenty of time to spare, and after buying a latte, she found a vacant seat and let everything fall out of her mind.

Sitting in the roomy chair and staring out the window to the tarmac, she watched all the many planes coming and going, the distance filled with rumbles and roars as each in turn raced down the runway and lifted off the ground. It was hard to imagine the vast distance one would take her within the hour. So far from him, she didn't know if she would be able to breathe. Weren't airports supposed to be the gateway to fun holidays? Not stations to jettison her into a painful void.

It was then Alessa remembered the envelope Cadence had given her earlier in the week and the command to open only after she'd gotten to the airport. She took out the book she had brought along to read on the flight and thumbed through it to where the envelope was tucked between the pages. She opened it, wondering what her sister would have thought to give her at the last minute. It was one of those large, purple envelopes in which people receive generic occasion cards. She thought it was the one she had given Cadence for her birthday so many months before. Alessa reached in and pulled out a piece of stiff, folded paper.

She recognized it at once. It was from Cadence's sketch book and it was of her and Denny the day of their Muir Woods outing. Her thumb brushed over his rough profile as a pained gasp escaped her.

"It's a good likeness of you." The rough voice next to her startled her.

She blinked back the quickly forming tears. She looked to her right to see an overweight, balding middle-age man with soft brown eyes looking kindly at her.

"Oh, uh, thank you," she struggled to answer.

"And who is that? Your boyfriend? Husband?"

She cleared her throat, scratching away the suddenly swollen feeling that comes just before crying. "Um, yes. Well, no. Not any longer. My ex," she admitted slowly after a rush.

"Oh," the stranger said as though he realized it must still be a sensitive subject. "Well, it's a good little drawing anyway," he commented politely.

Alessa smiled sadly. "Yeah. My sister did it once when we went for a hike. She's quite talented."

"Yes, I can see that she is."

Alessa was nodding, and the tears she had been struggling against still welled in her eyes.

"Oh, here now," the man said watching her distress as he quickly fumbled his jacket pocket for tissue. "Here, you go," he offered the crumpled tissue to her.

"Thanks," she managed to say through a tight voice as she fought hard to not completely lose her composure. Dabbing at her eyes, she felt embarrassed and rushed to apologize. "I'm sorry, it's just been such a hellish time and I don't think I can do it much longer," she slipped, confessing to what was pressing out from deep inside her. And then she broke down completely, sobbing into her hands as the stranger did his awkward best to comfort her. Her life was breaking into a thousand shattered pieces on the floor of the airport.

From some hidden mercy, she was able to eventually regain her control, stemming the tears and quieting her horrendous sobs. The man had pulled more tissue from somewhere and now they all lay crumbled and wet in her hands.

"Thanks," she managed pathetically weak.

He didn't say anything, but she could feel him shake his head in understanding. 

She giggled in shame. "I suppose it's not every day some hysterical woman cries on you," she stated, trying to bring a small amount of levity to the mortifying situation.

"Well, I'm married with three daughters. Ages twenty-four, nineteen, and seventeen. I get plenty of tears. They haven't washed me away yet," he offered graciously.

Alessa smiled, turning to look at him sincerely for the first time. He had deep wrinkles developing at the corners of his eyes. His round cheeks red, but his mouth curved somewhat handsomely. He was dressed in a standard blue gingham button-down with khakis and a blue blazer. He didn't look top brass, but he looked as if his wife loved him and tried to steer him in a respectable direction.

"I'm Kurt, by the way." He held out his hand.

Alessa studied it just a second before smiling and shaking it. "Alessa."

"Nice to meet you."

She sighed and smiled more sincerely. "You, too."

"Going to Korea?"

"Yeah. Job transfer. You?"

"Researching. Trying to find an electronic company to make something for me." He detailed a small little invention he had designed and wanted to see if he could find a company that could craft it. If it panned out and worked well, he was considering a global market. He then asked her about her own job, to which she explained her interest in international corporate law, especially Korea and that she worked for Wiles, Mayer and Schecter in San Francisco.

"It sounds like an exciting move. What's been going on that's been so hard? If you don't mind my asking," he questioned carefully.

She took a deep breath, pausing on the precipice, deciding whether to share in depth or skirt quickly around everything. "My mother died at Christmas," she began, letting out the breath and slowly rolling down the hill of admission.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," he said, genuine concern evident in his voice and on his face.

"Thank you."

"I remember when my dad passed. Was tough for us. Thankfully my wife was a pillar. Hope you didn't go it alone. Though you said you had a sister, right?"

"Yeah," she replied, beginning to tread through the complicated truth. "But it wasn't her mother. She's my half-sister. My father and step-mother's daughter."

"Oh, I see. Did you have anyone else?"

Alessa nodded, not wanting to talk about it, but knew she'd already opened the door. "Yeah, Denny. My boyfriend," she said as she held up the drawing.

"That's good. Even if he didn't love you, it's nice that he was able to help out somehow."

"But he did love me," she quickly responded. "Does," she amended. "Did. Why would you think he didn't?"

"Well, he broke up with you."

"No, I broke up with him," she corrected, looking down at the paper.

"May I?" he asked, reaching over and taking the folded drawing from her hands. "Oh, I can see it now. He loved you," he commented, taking in the happy slant of Denny's eyes as he looked at Alessa. She was a little uncomfortable with the way the stranger was studying them. He handed the picture back.

"But you didn't love him?"

"Yes, I do. Did." She sighed. "Do."

Kurt was puzzled a moment. "He cheated on you?"

"What? No."

"Fought all the time?"

"No, not really."

"Nothing in common then?"

"Everything. Except maybe sailing," she replied with a soft, half-smile.

"He couldn't provide for you?"

"He was my supervisor, a junior partner at our law firm."

"Emotionally unavailable?"

"No, he was very...emotional."

"Oh? Not masculine enough?"

Alessa snorted. "Very masculine," she answered with a lascivious grin, before she realized she was bragging a little and stifled her amusement.

"Didn't want to commit?"

"He asked me to move in with him."

"But no spark?"

She sighed in memory as she watched the next plane speed down the runway and reject gravity's hold. "Enough to set the west on fire."

Kurt was silent as he stared at her, a confounded look on his face. "So why are you leaving him?"

"My friend—correction: my ex-friend—says I'm afraid that one day he'll leave me and break my heart," she answered somberly.

"And what do you say?"

Alessa stared out the window, gazing listlessly as far as the eye could see. "I say Lou is generally right about these matters."

"So that's what you're doing to him."

"Hmm?" she asked, failing to keep up with the line of questioning.

"You're afraid of him breaking your heart, so I take it you broke his. And now flying half-way across the world. Even if you do love him. Did. Do," he mocked her lightly, a playful smile on his lips.

"Yeah, I guess," she confessed, feeling slightly heavy as if the void right before drowning was taking over her mind.

"So, in the end, you end up without the man you loved. But now it's your own fault. For no reason other than the fact that you're afraid." Alessa turned to look at the stranger. 

She blinked. 

"Yeah," she breathed, a flash of light pulling her from the depths of a once inescapable ocean. And just like that, the fear whooshed from her chest, taking off and leaving her heart lighter than air. 

Alessa smiled enormously at the stranger. Clarity sparking through her brain. "Yes. That's it exactly. Thank you," she said eagerly, her smile growing impossibly wide. She stood and shook his hand. "Yes. Thank you," she repeated as she grabbed her two carry-ons. "Thank you!" she gushed so loudly several heads turned their way.

"Where are you going?" he called.

"In the right direction!" she yelled over her shoulder as she dashed from the small wing of the large terminal. Her feet carried her as quickly as possible before breaking into a run. She emerged determined from the airport, hailing the nearest curb-side cab. When the man asked where to, she paused, wondering if Denny was back at his place or still at the office. She decided to try the office, as it was still early in the evening and on the way to his condo. If she was wrong, they could simply continue on. She had a flash of thought, wondering how she would feel if she found Denny had been able to continue on with his work after she had broken it off with him. 

Alessa tried to sit patiently in the back seat of the cab, fiddling anxiously with the hem of her trench coat, trying desperately to keep her nerves at bay. Though it was rush hour, thankfully she was headed into the heart of the city, and for a time was going against the traffic. As they wound themselves closer to the office, her building nerves felt like bubbles of acid in her stomach. But whatever bits of fear her logical brain seemed to stir up—those little clouds of doubt that asked 'what if he didn't want to forgive her?' 'what if their relationship didn't work out in the end?' or 'what if she damaged her career if she changed her mind and wanted to stay?'—the clarity she finally had about what she wanted and the coupling desire to fight for it completely obliterated any hesitancy. She was determined and nothing would stop her, not even herself.

When they pulled up across from the law firm, she had already decided to send the cab on and take her luggage with her, knowing the best outcome was that Denny was still up in his office and would simply drive the two of them home. If not, she could then call for another taxi to take her on to his condo. Managing her rolling luggage, she made her way swiftly through the lobby. Though she had only left a short few hours ago, it seemed like she was coming home after too many years away. The elevator couldn't seem to carry her quickly enough, but seemed to groan on past the floors between the ground and the offices of the law firm.




Trivial Pursuits Ch. 22



When she stepped off, it was early enough in the evening that many employees still loitered around working, though with a much more relaxed atmosphere than the typical professionalism found nine to five. But Alessa noticed none of them, not even the ones that turned to gawk at her unexpected return. Though she had felt confident and strong, she seemed to slow down like a wave coming in against the rip tide, losing momentum exponentially, until she was stopped just outside his door. Though it was closed, there was light coming from under it, indicating he was still there. 

Her heart was slamming so loudly she was afraid it would give her presence away. After what felt like an age, she lifted a slim, trembling hand. And knocked.

Silence followed the wordless request for so long she was afraid he actually wasn't in. But then he spoke from the other side. "Enter." Her trembling increased as she reached for the knob, fear racing through her in slamming waves. But this is what she wanted.

Alessa entered Denny's office bracing herself for a fight. He was standing with his back turned to her, his gaze out his window and into the dark and sparkling early night. She shut the door quietly, not wanting to disturb him until she must. Denny seemed to be waiting for the intruder to speak first, as he finally sighed when she said nothing.

"Yes?" he asked somewhat tersely and then turned to face the person who had the audacity to bother him. He froze as he saw her there, so shocked by her appearance he blinked, thinking she was a hallucination.

Alessa scrutinized his face for any indication whether her return was welcome or not. All she could determine was intensity. Perhaps contained rage. Perhaps something else. Neither spoke for nearly a minute, until she couldn't handle it any longer.

"Hello," she said, but he made no reply, not even a small nod of the head. "I, um...I've reconsidered," she explained, feeling somewhat lame. "Not the job, I mean. Well, yes, the job I've reconsidered, but that's because it's contingent upon something else of higher priority; so I'm giving it up. Though really, it's no sacrifice. Not considering what I gain." Alessa scrunched her nose when she realized she was rambling and not making any sort of sense. 

"You. I've reconsidered you." His scowl darkened. She took a rushed step forward. "I don't want to run anymore. I don't want to be afraid anymore. I want to stay with you. Always. After all," she admitted with a shrug and defeated half-smile, "you deserve me. I mean, out of all the people in the world, you are the one who worked the hardest to understand me and help me understand myself."

He said nothing, only stared at her with those incredibly intense and unknowable eyes. And she could feel it slipping away. All the euphoria that had buoyed her along when she'd realized what she wanted, the confidence she'd felt when she had the clarity that being with him was worth risking what she feared. Slipping, like the remnants of a wonderful dream as consciousness invaded the waking mind. 

"I'm sorry," she whispered, not knowing what else to say. Only the apology that she had destroyed something special by running away. "I love you, and I'm sorry I acted like a fool, trying to fight it," she confessed at last, the tears blurring her vision, the desperation that she had ruined her chance at happiness.

And in that moment of seeing her future lacked all meaning without him, he finally responded. Denny strode quickly across the room, the force of his decisiveness lifting her off her feet when he reached her, his hands around her back as his mouth crushed against her lips.

Alessa whimpered out in flooding relief, her own arms instantly around his neck, clinging as tightly as possible to his solid form. For a moment he held her close, kissing her, before setting her feet on the ground and using one of his hands to cup her cheek. His tongue invaded her mouth possessively, drinking in her life to sustain his own. When he at last pulled back just enough for their lips to part, their harsh breaths stormed together.

"Tell me again," he pleaded, sounding as though he'd run up a mountain. "Tell me."

For a split second, she was too dazed to understand what he was talking about, but then she realized it, heat spreading over her cheeks as she looked into his eyes.

"Denton Ashbury, you are the only man I love. I love you with a heart I never knew I had. I crave you with a need I never knew I possessed. I love you; heaven help me, I always will. Denny, you were my first, and you will be the last."

Gently, in deepest gratitude, he lowered his forehead until it rested against hers, their lips not quite touching. "Oh, Sweetheart, don't ever fucking do that again. I thought I'd lost you." He chuckled morosely. "I was actually just running through all my Plan Bs. I thought I'd give you a week and then go to Korea after you. I never thought you'd come back, not when you'd convinced yourself you could live without me."

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, drawing him down for another kiss.

The next time they stopped for air, he said, "Please, please, please, please, please. Promise me. If you ever get scared again, if you ever become uncertain just talk to me about it. Don't assume there's only one way out. Hope that there's something we can do. Together. Okay, Sweetheart?"

"I promise. I'll never run from us again."

It took some fancy finagling, but he was able to maneuver them from the office in a respectable manner, possessing the wherewithal to text Macrae, succinctly explaining the situation and the fact that Alessa would not be going to Seoul. At least not that evening and certainly not permanently.

The moment he got them home, he was on her, pinning her body against the wall in the entry while his hips pressed firmly into the juncture of her thighs. When she seemed ready for him to tear her panties off and impale her where they stood, he stepped back leaving her alone on the wall. As he stood there looking at her like she was his personal play-thing, his fierce expression making her body completely pool in liquid need, he formulated a little plan.

"You've been a bad girl, Ms. Allen, trying to leave me."

Her breath rushed out of her as her hands gripped the wall behind her. "Have I? How bad?"

"Very, very bad. And I think you need to be punished, so you never forget what you'd leave behind if you ever think about doing it again." When she didn't respond, but simply bit her lip and arched an eyebrow, he loosened his tie. "Take off your shoes and pants. Now."

Trembling, she complied, sliding them down her legs eagerly. "Your shirt, too. Take it off." Denny's eyes devoured her as she undid each button, her shaking fingers making the work difficult. "Now, turn around and place your hands on the wall. Above your head." 

When she had done as he commanded, he took his tie completely off and stalked closer to her. He traced the fingers of one hand up her right arm. He smiled predatorily when she groaned at the light sensation, her head rolling away to expose her sensitive neck to him in invitation. Not one to resist her charms, he stepped close enough to hover his lips just above the surface of the smooth skin stretched for his teasing pleasure. Denny allowed his warm breath to pour down the slopes, but didn't connect his lips to them, returning her temptation on to her.

Instead, he traveled up the length of that right arm, momentarily lacing his fingers with hers, before bringing the hand down behind her back. He did the same with the left hand and then looped his black tie around her wrists, keeping them together with only a little give.

Leaning against her lightly, not enough to truly press her firmly against the wall, but enough to cage her in with his body, he let his hands drift down her bare back and the curves of her bottom, fingering the edge of her panties, before drawing lines under the mounds of her buttocks.

"Now, for the beginning of your punishment. Have I ever told you that your ass is perfect for-" Smack!. He gave her right cheek a sharp, but not overly painful slap. She breathed in through clenched teeth, feeling the heat his hand left on her skin seep straight to the plumping lips of her sex.

"No," she breathed, allowing the tension to flow from her body and rock back against him.

"No?" He smacked the other, a little harder, but only enough to bring a slowly building thrum of pleasure to her pussy. She moaned the second time, and the third. And though she caught her breath on the fourth, she raised no protest. She did squirm, both toward his pleasure giving hand, and away after the fifth spanking. "What's the matter Sweetheart? Not enjoying your punishment?" He began tracing his fingers over the reddened globes, both tantalizing the flesh and sparking a little pain whenever he touched the places he had struck.

"Yes, yes I am," she admitted freely, not knowing if she wanted more or to be fucked. Maybe both. All she really knew was the pleasure of his fingers on her bottom were unlike any she'd ever had.

"Really? How much?" At last his fingers followed the curve to her hidden lips, which were fully coated, she was sure.

"V-very much," she stuttered when his fingers found the wet spot on her panties. The tips of two fingers stroked the spot from the back all the way forward over her engorged pearl of nerves. Her hips jerked at the amazing sensation.

"Hmm, yes, I can tell by how very, very wet you are." His weight seemed to press into her back a little more now as he stroked her sex from behind. Without being told, Alessa's legs parted to give his roving hand access, her lower back arching to tilt her crotch back toward him. "Seems like you need something," he murmured, looking down at the erotic vision she produced.

"Yes, please," she moaned.

"I don't know if bad girls get rewarded."

She whimpered, and the sincerity in her dejection made him smile. Her arms twisted in their confinement. Her cheek was now pressed against the wall as she rested her tortured body against it. "Please, Denny. I'll be so good for you. But please." She took a deep breath and let it out in a stuttering exhale. "So long," she sighed, her eyes closing. "I've needed you so long."

He realized that she meant it had been quite some time since they'd been intimate, and not just sex, but any form of physical connection. And he agreed. It had been so long. Too long. Well, he planned on rectifying that.

Taking a step back, he took her by her joined wrists and guided her before him, leading her to the couch. Denny pushed her forward so she crawled up, and then with more guidance caused her to lay across the back so her stomach rested on it and her bottom stuck up in the air. Denny pulled her panties down just past her bottom, revealing the wet lips of her sex winking at him. For a moment, he simply enjoyed the view. Her round, toned backside was beautiful and made his mouth water. He felt a stirring thrill in his loins at the sight of her skin lightly marked red by his hand. 

As he reverently touched her smooth flesh, he wondered how he could have allowed himself to become so occupied with work that he had neglected her, neglected what was between them. He needed this, just as much as she did. He leant down and placed a soft, apologetic kiss on one of the pinked globes. Alessa moaned and pushed back into him a little, hopeful that he would continue the sweet attention.

Denny stood up and began running a hand over her, stroking her bottom and coming closer and closer to the dripping crease of her sex. "Tell me again," he whispered as his fingers dipped down the line, coating the tips in her hot moisture.

Reacting to that thrilling touch, she pushed her hips back in attempt to force herself on at least one digit. Denny reacted quickly enough, pulling his hand away and giving her butt a sharp slap. "No, not until you pay your penance. Tell me," he commanded more firmly, not touching her until she complied.

Alessa released her bottom lip, quick to comply in hopes that her eagerness would prove her sincerity. "I love you, Denny."

"Again."

"I love you. Have for a while now."

He placed a hand at the small of her back. "And why didn't you tell me?" he questioned, not yet caressing her, but holding his hand against her in promise of her reward if she submitted.

"I-I was going to," she confessed. "The night I found out about-" she drew in a ragged breath, "about my mom. The dinner was supposed to be for us. For you. The rock was a confession. But I never got to really say it."

"Then say it now," he said softly. His fingertips had begun to drift over her sensitive skin again. 

A shudder went through her as the pain was heightened by his lightest of touches and mixed with the pleasure. "Oh Denny, I love you so much."

At her words, two of his fingers stroked firmly down either side of her pleading core. She moaned, her head writhing as she succumbed to the sensation. "Say it again."

"I love you." He punctuated her statement by invading her tight heat with the same two fingers, spreading her slick walls until she conformed around him. Her hips were lifting up to capture him fully, guide him to the deep, aching spot.

"Again."

"I love you. I need you." 

"That's right," he murmured as he played her like a sweetly singing instrument, drawing his fingers out and pressing in, gliding over the center of nerves buried inside. 

"Oh, Denny," she whimpered, feeling her body begin to tighten as the pleasure coalesced right before the explosion. Unexpectedly, he pulled his hand from her and landed a smarting blow to her right butt cheek. She squealed, though not in protest.

"That's for not trusting me." He gave her another. "That's for not telling me you were hurt and you wanted to leave." Another. "That's for not telling me you loved me." He rained sharp blows until she was wiggling in near discomfort. "And that's for leaving me." She was crying, though not from pain, at least not from the blows. But he gave her no respite. "And this is for coming back." And then his two fingers were back inside her, rubbing aggressively against her inner wall, causing an almost instantaneous climax like she'd never before felt. 

She was crying out, all the agitated emotion of the past month pouring from her as glorious pleasure possessed her body and tensed her supple muscles until she was panting and gasping and writhing armless on the back of the couch.

Denny's loving mouth was on her back, adoring her capitulation with kisses on her damp skin. While she still floated in the euphoric bliss from of orgasm, Denny untangled her hands from his tie, placed an arm at the crook of her bent knees and guided her back to fall into his waiting arms. Her own arms went around his shoulders as he placed a grateful kiss against her brow and carried her to their bed.

He laid her upon it, and as she watched him languorously, he undressed. Crawling to her, he felt his heart squeeze as he pictured her their first night together. How far she had come, opening herself up to him, allowing him and returning his affection, if even reluctantly. He slide her panties the rest of the way off her legs, leaving them to fall open and allow him to settle between them. Her hands were instantly on him, pulling him down onto her, her hips adjusting to cradle his thick hardness. She leaned up to kiss him, to thank him with her stroking tongue.

"Tell me," she implored softly, turning his command back on him in a sweet request.

Denny leaned up on one elbow so he could stroke the damp tresses of her hair away from her temple and forehead. He leisurely traced the prominent curves and lines of her face, from the curve of her brow to the slope of her nose. Even the plump peaks of her lips he wanted to always kiss.

"I love you, Sweetheart. I always will." He kissed her then, slowly and languidly, as if his only job the rest of eternity was to portray his love with just that kiss. Without separating their mouths, he reached down and guided his shaft to her entrance. Together they worked to slide him in until their pubic bones touched.

"I'll never get used to this," she sighed at the fullness. "I'll never have enough."

Denny gave a hoarse chuckle just as he focused on not losing control too quickly. And then slowly he stroked in and out, drawing himself along her tight sheath with patience so she could feel each vein and ripple of his cock. She groaned when he pushed back in and drew her knees up alongside his waist. Denny watched her respond to him, watched enthralled as her eyes fluttered shut and her head twisted side to side against the wonderful sensation he produced as he methodically picked up the pace. 

A flash of thankfulness that not only she had returned to him, but that she returned his feelings surged through him. Overcome, he bent down to kiss her, coaxing out moans and whimpers with his roving hands and thrusting body. 

A possessiveness, a savagery that she belonged to him and always would overtook him and he began plunging into her with abandon. Not satisfied with the depth, Denny pulled away just enough to slightly reposition them so that both his knees were bent on the bed and she was angled with one leg below him and one on top of his right thigh. This allowed for a deeper penetration, almost as if he were bisecting her. A shiver like a hot knife raced up his spine when the tip of his penis nudged her cervix. Alessa gave a grunt, her face wincing for a split second before she continued with him, rolling her hips as if she were riding him.

Contented that the position was more than satisfactory for Alessa, Denny leaned over her, one hand on her shoulder and the other bracing him as he began thrusting powerfully into her. Alessa's hand was on the small nubbin of her sex, rubbing it in time with his pistoning. When he felt her tight walls quivers violently around his cock, his own body tensed up involuntarily, and expelling round after round of ejaculate inside her. From his groin to his scalp, he was seized with a delicious wave of liquid euphoria. And when it passed, he groaned hoarsely. 

A hand went around Alessa's back, as she had curled up in a tight ball during her own climax, and holding her, he collapsed, rolling slightly so as to avoid crushing her. Together, they lay panting and recovering.

Some hours later, after two more bouts of tangling themselves in various positions, as her fingertips lightly caressed the forearm that was wrapped around her, she spoke softly. "I'm good."

"Hm?"

"I need you. I need you to hold me in the morning, to make omelets for me, to play games with me and push me to work hard. But I don't need you to tell me how to feel, to tell me when I'm wrong or right. Not anymore. I'm good now. I understand, and so from now on, I need to do it on my own. I need to stand on my own feet in this relationship. Equal. Free to make mistakes and not look to you to guide me through anything."

His arm tightened around her, and she could feel his face come to nuzzle in her hair. "Ah, Sweetheart, that's all I ever wanted." He chuckled, "Well, maybe not all, but a big part. Just for you to want to be with me. To love me as much as I love you."

She turned in his arms to wrap her own around him. She kissed his chin. "And now I do."