Whisky Sour [Closed] - Printable Version

Whisky Sour [Closed] - Printable Version

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RE: Whisky Sour [Closed] - saronym - 03-14-2017

I don’t need a Lyft, she’d insisted which drew his gaze from the phone screen. His quizzical expression with one eyebrow arching towards his hairline was illuminated by the bluish-light emanating from his phone. Eye’s flicked below the level of the phone as the bra fell to the deck at his feet. He policed his gaze from admiring her breasts which she’d revealed to him, for him. It was less about his earlier reticence to become sexually engaged with a woman he'd deemed too young. Now it was more about a game of refusing to acknowledge her bareness because she clearly wanted him to. Though he did let her apprehend his phone and put it away.

He was quiet and still as her fingers worked to loose his tie. He watched her hands still refusing to acknowledge her efforts. Owen made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat in response to the issue of Lyft’s policy on clothing. He was sure he could find her a driver that wouldn’t mind her toplessness. But that was beside the point.

“You have clothes to wear, Julianna.” He insisted as she settled his tie around her neck. This time he did afford himself a long look at her. Skin of her arms dimpled with goosebumps which also drew her nipples into attractive points. While she unbuttoned his vest, he arranged his tie so that it hung between her breasts that she wasn’t covered by the material. He let his finger purposefully brush across her nipple in the action of rearranging the silk fabric. Some scant contact before it was gone again and his hands fell back to his sides.

She was pressed against him insisting on more from him: that he undress more and that they experiment with her corruptibility. He made no moves to shrug out of his vest, but pushed her hands away from him. He took the ends of the tie into his hand and began folding and looping the material into a slip knot.

“It seems, to me, that your path to corruption has already been traveled.” He tightened the knot up to her throat, “Which is good. Nice farm girls are no fun anyways.” He gathered the remaining fabric and moved away from the bar tugging at the tie around her neck like a leash expecting her to follow where he led her.

Owen led her inside through the sliding glass door and down the hall to his bedroom. He flipped the light on revealing to her the most lived in room of the house. The room that seemed to reveal that indeed someone did regularly reside in the home. A stately four post bed was the focal of the room. An armchair in the corner seemed to be a favorite reading spot as a haphazard collection of books were piled there on the floor. A laptop lay on the floor near to the bed plugged into the wall with a black cord that snaked across the floor.

He situated her in front of the most impressive feature of the room letting the tie fall back against her skin. A wall of floor to ceiling windows that faced outwards from the bed. City lights in the distance sparkled. The nearest condominiums across the busy street were seen easily enough. A good pair of binoculars and one would know what was for dinner across the way. Figures moved about in living rooms and bedrooms. Casual voyeurism being a feature of high-rise city living.

Owen shrugged out of his vest and untucked his shirt as he let her take in the view and the implications. “I’m going to fuck you now Julianna...” It was a phrase that carried some sort of warning to it. Owen moved behind her, threading his hands underneath her arms. He pressed himself against her, situating his erection against her the curve of her ass. He cupped her breasts taking nipples between his thumb and index finger. He tugged at her in a way that was more urgently assertive than would normally be considered polite for a first encounter. He didn't think Julianna was so concerned for politeness and if she was, well, he could hardly care anymore. His face lowered to her ear and so that he could take her earlobe between his teeth.

“And all of D.C. is going to watch.”

Julianna leaned back against his chest and a small whine escaped her in response to the fingers at her breasts. Owen’s lips were moving towards her jaw so she turned her head wanting to capture them with her own. His mouth hovered near hers but he denied her the kiss she wanted.

Instead, he pulled away suddenly. Her back felt cold when his chest retreated from her. She turned gazing at him questioningly, her face burning from arousal and perhaps a bit of embarrassment from her obvious desire for him.

Owen was lazily unbuttoning his shirt looking as if he had forgotten about her. “Sit on the end of the bed.” He told her barely gazing up from where his eyes attentively watched his hand move down the front of him.

She complied perching herself on the end of his bed. She faced the window. There was no other way to face sitting there. The lights of the city continued to sparkle like far off stars. Julianna’s heart pounded in her ears in anticipation. His movement from the edge of her periphery to the center of her vision drew her gaze.

“Spread your legs.” He said casually.

She didn’t realize she was sitting with her legs pressed together. She did as she was told. When she separated her knees for him she felt her clit throb. The broad silhouette standing in front of her shrugged out of his shirt. He carefully folded his shirt over his arm. The city came in full view again as he moved off to the side taking his shirt to lay it on a bureau against the wall.

She turned her head watching him move.

“Be still.”

His impatient instruction snapped her head back to the front. She was exposed. And soaked. That much she knew without having to even touch herself.

She could hear a siren far away on the street below. A light clicked on in the building across from his. She could see two silhouettes move in the window. But her attention was otherwise bent on the man in the room with her. He was undressing with deliberate slowness just on the edge of her peripheral vision. She heard the distinct sound of his belt buckle being released followed by a taut “zip.” She felt hot all over.

When he came back into her vision, he was naked. He dragged the chair from the corner in front of the window, centered. He turned towards her, his erect cock was in his hand and he stroked downward rolling a condom with his hand down to the base of him. He was close enough that she could see his muscles move under his skin.

“Come here.” He said while he kept caressing himself over the condom. He sat down in the chair facing the widow. His knees parted when she tentatively rounded the chair and Owen pulled her between them. He turned her around so that she was again facing the window. He sat for a moment admiring her standing naked in front of him with her hands bound behind her back. His hand moved over her shoulder and down her arm before it moved back again that same path and traced her spine. She shivered involuntarily and she felt her nipples kind of prick.

His hand engulfed her shoulder again and the other touched her hip. With downward pressure he guided her towards his lap until she was almost sitting on an invisible chair. Hovering just above him. He held her there to position himself against her opening. He pushed down on her shoulder, easing himself inside of her until she was fully seated in his lap. She gasped at the sharp pleasure when he entered her and pressed downwards towards him when he thrust upwards into her.

He ran his hand up her spine and over her shoulder as he fucked upwards into her. His arm snaked around her and he pulled her back against him with his forearm pressed hard against her throat. “I wonder.” He breathed against her ear. “Do you like that they could be watching you? Or do you just not care?”

“Is there a difference?” She gasped the question, unthinkingly. She enjoyed the tightness of his arm her throat when she spoke.

His grunt was derisive. Mocking almost. As if she had said something silly. His other hand skirted down the flat of her stomach to dip between her legs. Her spread her arousal around with his fingers and languidly rubbed his middle finger against her clit.

“The difference is what kind of slut you are. But I suppose it doesn’t matter.”

Her whine was almost desperate.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” He asked moving his arm so that his hand could encircle her throat. The skin beneath his hand vibrated when she moaned a “yes.” She matched the rhythm of his hips rocking upwards into her.

Without warning Owen stopped and slid his hands under her knees pulling them upwards towards her chest. Her feet left the ground and she was seated in his lap helpless with his cock sheathed inside, her hands bound behind her back, and her legs spread wide. He lifted her up and banged her down on his cock which brought cry out of her. He repeated the motion again and again until they both came.

Julianna could feel his heart pounding in his chest from the effort. His torso rose and fell quickly at her back as he caught his breath. He picked her up off his cock one last time and she felt suddenly empty. Her legs felt cramped as he unhooked his hands from beneath her knees and let them lower slowly. Owen pushed her forward just enough to release her hands. The muscles of her arms felt the same gratifying cramping when they were released.

She twisted to the side and leg her legs hang over one of his thighs. His arm encircled her back and his other hand came to rest on her knee. She let her head fall against his shoulder. She was cradled safely against him but her mind was darkened with a sudden doubt. Her fingers fiddled uselessly at his chest. The chair came to mind. It was the first thing she noticed about his room. It didn’t fit. Now she knew why it was there. And he hadn’t put it there for her, specifically. That much was obvious.

The sudden press of his cheek against her forehead stayed her doubts for a moment. His skin felt rough from five o’clock shadow. She nuzzled to hide her face against his shoulder and neck.

They sat until sweat had dried cool on their skin.

His face turned suddenly and he kissed her forehead. His thumb brushed back and forth swiftly against her arm almost as if to rouse her. “Are you tired?”

“It’s late.” Was her way of answering in the affirmative.

“Do you want to take a shower?”

She nodded and started to push off of him. His hands tightened and she stilled her body but lifted her head questioningly. He hooked his arm under her knees and lifted her easily. His feet padded gently over the carpet as he carried her to the bathroom.

The bathroom was as impressive as the rest of his house, boasting not only a shower with multiple heads that shot water from either side as well as from the top, but also a jacuzzi tub and steam stall. Owen eased her down until her bare feet touched cold tile. He touched one of her hands with his as he reached into the shower to turn it on. His other hand felt the water, confirming that it would come out hot before he lead her as if they were about to dance into the shower stall.

He brought her close to him under the stream of hot water. She closed her eyes turning her face up towards the water and smoothed her wet hair back. When she opened her eyes again, his face was close to hers. Water droplets clung to his eye lashes and a few hairs hung wet in front of his forehead. He looked simultaneously pretty and handsome and it made her stomach ache.

On her face was a look of raw vulnerability or confusion. He wasn’t sure which. He pressed his lips against her mouth.

The kiss was warmer than she expected. She melted into it and into him. His hands touched her face as he walked her back out of the stream of water and against the cool tile wall. Her hands gripped the back of his shoulders as he pressed his body warm against the front of her.

When he pulled away from her, he handed her a loofah and a bar of soap. The soap was dark green and marbled and smelled like tea tree oil. Afterwards, they dried off in over-sized, fluffy white towels. He rifled around in the drawers until he found a new toothbrush and tore open the packaging for her. They watched each other in the mirror while they brushed in silence.

He lingered in the bathroom while she crawled into bed feeling clean and cozy. She pulled the sheets and blankets all around her and could smell the scent of his soap on her own skin. The light clicked off in the bathroom and he padded into the room. She watched him go to the dresser and pull out a pair of black boxers.

“Get some sleep.” He said to the mound in his bed.

The way he said it made her heart fall in disappointment. He wasn’t coming to bed.

“Aren’t you coming to bed?”

“I have some work emails I have to answer.” He explained lamely. “I’ll be just a few minutes.” He lied as he bent over her and kissed her once more on the lips. “Good night.”

“‘Night.” She said in a small voice. She turned over on her side so she wouldn’t have to watch him leave the room. She gathered the blankets and sheets around her like a protective cocoon and watched the wall, listening for him to come to bed until she fell asleep.

RE: Whisky Sour [Closed] - megs - 03-27-2017

Julianna rolled over, a gentle and content hum sounding in her throat as her hand smoothed across the silken sheets, seeking the body and the warmth of her companion. Fingers uncurled and stretched outward, unsuccessful in their search and her brow furrowed, but she didn’t open her eyes. Her shoulder rolled forward for better reach, and when the distance became questionable she opened her eyes and pushed herself onto her elbow. She blinked in the darkness, cast by drapes that had been closed after their romp. A thin line of light striped across the bed from where the curtains didn’t quite meet together, and it was enough for Julianna to realize she was alone in the king sized bed.

Sitting up further, she pulled the sheet higher over her chest, suddenly feeling strangely self-conscious, alone and in the darkness of the master bedroom. She pushed her hair away from her face, even though she knew the unruly curls would only spring forward again.

She wondered when Owen had left. Or if he had come to bed at all. She crossed her legs and rolled her shoulders, and found them still a little sore. It wasn’t a pain she minded; a tight reminder of the way he had tied her arms behind her back - of the night they had shared. She remembered all the details, the way his hands felt on her. Gripping her hips or her thighs, leaving red hand prints on her ass, and gently cradling her curves when they’d shared a steamy shower. He had kissed her softly when he’d left her in bed, citing that he had some last minute things to do before he joined her. She’d fallen asleep, cozy and content, and proper fucked before he had returned. If he had returned.

And all of D.C. is going to watch. Just thinking about the words, the baritone of his voice against her ear still coursed a shiver down her spine. And watched they had. Any nosy neighbors had certainly been treated to a show. She thought of the skyline and how it had glittered when he’d pulled her into his lap and filled her with his-

Quickly, she policed her thoughts, lest she get hot and bothered all over again with no outlet for it. Holding the top sheet tighter against her chest, she pulled it free from the bedding and used it as a makeshift dress as she hopped out of the bed and shuffled over to the curtains to pull them open. She made a face against the bright sunlight, she had no idea what time it was. Though the city didn’t shimmer the same in the daylight, it was still a very impressive view.

Green eyes rolled upwards to watch a distant airplane leave white trails across the cloudless blue sky. A corner of her mouth curled upwards in a small smile, and she figured that if Owen was going to leave her alone in his swanky penthouse, she could enjoy it for a little bit longer. She found a remote for the large television mounted on the wall, on the nightstand when she climbed back into the bed. Turning it on defaulted to a local station that was currently airing a live talk show. Julianna bundled the pillows against the headboard and made herself comfortable, deciding to watch the show play out. A news ticker at the bottom said the time was 10AM. She didn’t have to do anything for a few hours, maybe in a bit she would go raid his fridge for a late breakfast.

RE: Whisky Sour [Closed] - saronym - 04-18-2017

While Julianna was waking to find herself alone, Owen’s harried executive assistant was letting himself into the penthouse to retrieve a docket of paperwork the hungover CEO had forgotten that morning.

Renton had been up since 4 that morning fielding needy emails from his insomniac and often intoxicated boss. He’d then met Owen at the television studio to prep him for his live interview. He now found himself rushing into the penthouse to retrieve papers and catch the interview before he rushed back out to the office again. He needed to intercept Owen on his way back from the interview to hand over the papers for a meeting.

He sighed heavily over the sounds of the morning news program’s jingle that was somehow traveling through the silent home to meet him. He cocked his head and turned on his heel to follow the sounds coming from his boss’ bedroom.

“Next up after a quick break, in our Business Spotlight we’ll be talking to Tac Industries CEO, Mr. Owen Hart about the controversial new multi-billion dollar weapons deal he landed with the Pentagon. We’ll be right back.”

Was it the cleaning lady? She didn’t come on Wednesdays. Maybe Owen had left the TV on.

Ren pushed his way into the office and located the docket in question. He kept an ear tuned on the sounds of the commercials as he searched through what Owen insisted was “organized chaos.” Ren only knew Owen’s messes as pure chaos.

He then rushed into the bedroom, shoving open the door with his shoulder as he checked a notification on his phone.

There was another person in the room. Unthinkingly he greeted them as if they were already inside his train of thought. “Great you have this on. Give it a little volume would you?” He asked as his fingers tapped rapidly along the screen of his phone. Little clicking sounds accompanied the movement followed by a familiar swooshing sound of a message sent. Renton clicked the phone closed and it was at that moment he realized that the person in the room was a stranger.

A strange woman.
A naked woman.
In Owen’s bed.

Renton adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat, “Oh I - um, oh. Good morning, Miss - ? I wasn’t aware that ... Mr. Hart had a houseguest this morning.” His voice had that kind of syrupy quality developed in careers that involved serving others. Renton had only recently become aware that Owen and his wife were separated. Owen had a way of keeping secrets even from those closest to him.

Though he was curious about the strange naked woman, his attention was pulled to the interview. Introductions had been made and Owen had moved across a small stage to take his seat in a large chair next to the interviewer.

Renton frowned when he noticed his normally impeccable boss carrying a travel mug of coffee with him.

The interviewer immediately pointed out the mug. “Late night, Owen?” She asked gesturing with her pen.

Owen’s face contorted in mild confusion before he followed the direction of the pen with his eyes. Once he understood, he toasted the interviewer flashing a charming smile. “No rest for the wicked” He smiled again before sipping at his coffee.

The interviewer laughed politely and segued easily into her questioning. “I can imagine late nights are the norm for a man like you.”

Owen frowned over the rim of his mug, grey eyes shooting towards the interviewer with suspicion. His mind immediately went to the evening before. He was struck with a paranoia that his indiscretions were about to become subject to journalistic investigation. “‘Scuse me?” He asked uncertainly, he wiped one of his hands back and forth over his thigh. A nervous tic.

“I mean to say, in your industry the amount of success you’ve achieved at your age...do you have time to sleep?”

Understanding passed over Owen’s face again and he smiled though it didn’t touch the eyes. “I napped while the lady put powder on my nose, does that count?”

Renton pinched the skin of his nose and shook his head. “Oh my god. He’s a sleep deprived over-caffeinated giddy mess.” He glanced at the naked woman wrapped in expensive sheets as if she were to blame for Owen’s state.

And she kind of was.

RE: Whisky Sour [Closed] - megs - 04-18-2017

Julianna was unaware of the entrance of another person into the penthouse. Mostly, because she didn’t consider the possibility and also because she found herself very interested in the ongoing talk show. She sank further down into the nest of fluffy pillows she had built up for herself, pulling soft sheets up towards her chin. It was pretty cozy, admittedly.

“Are you kidding me,” she mumbled to herself as the next guest was announced. None other than Owen himself. It figured. It also explained his current absence. At least a business obligation felt a little better than being ditched. Julianna was almost awake enough to the point that she could really go for some coffee, but not quite. Besides, she didn’t want to miss Owen’s interview.

The bedroom door opened and Julianna bolted upright. Arms across her chest held the sheets tight against her naked form. She blinked at the man who had entered. Engrossed with his phone and almost oblivious to her presence. She watched him cross the room, tapping away on his phone as he requested that she turn up the volume. “Uhm…” Stunned, Jules searched the vicinity of the comforter to find the remote she had abandoned. Snatching it up, she quickly pushed the volume higher. He had the sort of presence that made her feel as if she should just give into the commands that had been issued to her.

Finally he seemed to notice her. Really notice her and the fact that he didn’t know her. “You can call me Julianna…” she offered, as his focus returned to the new program. She was left to gather that he was some sort of assistant of Owen’s. One that clearly hadn’t been forewarned of her possible presence in the apartment. Or maybe it was the Owen had expected her to be gone already. Suddenly, and all at once, she felt as if she had overstayed her welcome.

They watched Owen and the interviewer together in silence. She had to muffle a chuckle with sheets and a closed lips when the interviewer asked if he’d suffered a late night. The stranger’s comments and not-so-subtle glance in her direction made her feel as if he was blaming her for Owen’s obvious mishandling of the interview. Julianna sank back into her horde of pillows, as if it would make her invisible for the time being.

RE: Whisky Sour [Closed] - saronym - 04-18-2017

“Please to meet you Miss Julianna, I’m Renton Bell, Mr. Hart’s executive assistant. So sorry to bother you this morning.” He chimed politely and held up the file for her as explanation and paired it with that almost mock sort of exasperated look. The kind of look seen on an infomercial before the magic solution product was introduced. “Had to pick up the file he forgot this morning.”

He slapped the file back down against his thigh with a sigh. “No rest indeed, it seems.”

A tweet was flashing on the screen that the interviewer read off to Owen.

More profits for @CEOwen. More @Navy bombs killing babies in conflicts overseas. Win win, apparently? #disgusting #divest

“Your response,” the interviewer prompted.

Owen was sighed before taking a long sip of his coffee while he considered the answer.

“Look, here’s the thing,”

Somewhere in D.C. when Owen opened his response that way, a nervous executive assistant adjusted his glasses and whispered, “Oh no,” before sinking into bed next to the naked woman that same Owen had abandoned that morning. “Oh no.” He repeated. “Owen please. Don't say something stupid.”

“I’ve had to deal with this kind of critique my whole career. From over concerned upper middle class pearl clutchers - who - incidentally elect the same guys who start these wars so they can get some measily tax cut. And I’m the bad guy? Why? Because I happen to manage the company who makes the weapons. Lady, listen, I feel you. I really do. It’s a … terrible, terrible thing when civilians, children, are caught in the crossfire between nations at war. But you have to understand the way this kind of deal works. The government puts out for bids for a contract for a company, like Tac Industries, to make the weapons the military needs. Your elected officials and the generals decided they wanted these bombs. Not me. Not my competitors. We answer the bid. And the company who can complete the contract at the lowest asking price wins. Simple. You don’t like war? Then stop voting for it. But no, you know what, there’s no end to depravity in the world. So fine, I’ll be the boogeyman Mrs. White Picket Fence needs so she can sleep at night blissfully unaware how her lifestyle and political blindness directly contributes to the violence she claims to abhor. At least I’m honest with myself.”

After his harsh monologue, Owen took another drink of his coffee and looked to the interviewer who seemed shocked.

Renton reached for the remote control and flipped off the television. “I can’t - I can’t watch anymore of that.” He put his hand over his face with little care for smudging his glasses and shook his head. “The fall out - I won’t get anything done -”

His hand fell to the bed and Renton turned to look at Julianna, the naked woman he was sitting remarkably close to. He seemed content to ignore his future misery at work. “So, where are your clothes, honey?” He reached up and in an almost motherly sort of gesture, pushed Julianna’s hair behind her shoulder. “ Do you need me to get you a ride home? I’ll call the town car up for you.”

RE: Whisky Sour [Closed] - megs - 04-18-2017

Julianna returned her own pleasantries to the assistant as she shrugged in the wake of his explanations. “It’s chill,” she replied, and she certainly seemed unbothered by his presence all tucked into the bed. “I think I was supposed to leave by now.” She laughed off the fact that she hadn’t yet. Had been too busy enjoying the luxury apartment. Their attentions were both returned to the television, as the interviewer prodded Owen for a response to what was a very heated tweet.

She was left sort of gaping at the screen after Owen’s monologue. Not because she disagreed with him, but because he had said something so controversial so openly and easily to what could have been easily millions of viewers. At this time of day, those viewers were likely the same people that he was insulting. In a way, she kind of liked it. Gaze drifted to Renton who looked no less than horrified. Her eyes made obvious tracks back and forth between her company and the TV as the talk continued.

She felt sort of bad for Renton as the television went black. That couldn’t possibly be an easy thing to deal with and she has a feeling it happened more often than not.

“Yeah…” she started, but realized there was nothing she could say that would have been comforting. “That’s...gonna suck.” She leaned forward to pat Renton’s shoulder.

She blinked owlishly back at him when he inquired about her clothes, unbothered by the brief way he fussed with her hair. Her lips pursed, face screwing up in thought as she tried to remember what happened to her clothing. “I think most of it is on the balcony,” she admitted shamelessly. “And I don't need a car. I'm perfectly fine with walking.”

RE: Whisky Sour [Closed] - saronym - 04-23-2017

Renton shook his head emphatically. “Oh no no no. You can stay as long as you want. Owen doesn’t care or he would have kicked you out himself. He’s not exactly shy about shutting people down.”

His eyes narrowing and a Cheshire-like grin took over Renton’s face showing his rows of perfect white teeth. “Oh my god, yes.” He pushed up from the bed, bringing the files with him. “Someone had fun last night.” He teased before heading for the door.

“I’ll get those clothes for you and then how about we can have a cup of coffee while we wait for the driver? I cannot send you home walking. Owen would want me to give you the best.” Nevermind that the best would have probably been some morning sex with Owen, a nice breakfast, and a ride home in his car. The town car could be second best.

He didn’t wait for her to agree to his terms before he disappeared from the doorway and went to fetch her clothes. Indeed he found them littered on the balcony. Her shoes, pants, and shirt were abandoned near the deck chairs. The table in that vicinity had an empty glass on it and one of Owen’s ridiculously expensive watches neglected next to it as if it wasn’t a twenty thousand dollar or so time-piece. Renton was given a snapshot of the scene the night before as he picked up the clothing.

He had occasion to notice the logo on the t-shirt he picked up. That whisky bar Owen was always going on about. He smirked to himself, Owen had made it with cute bar girl. Finally. Well, he assumed she was the one Owen had spoken of. Friendly and willing to trade witty banter and trivia with him.

She’s real friendly with me. We banter a little. I kick her ass in trivia. She has a cute smile and alarmingly green eyes. But she’s much too young. It’s fun to talk with her is all. Owen’s description of her came to Renton's mind.

He found a lacy bra by the bar outside. Again another empty glass and a bottle of whisky on the bar top. Owen’s vest lay on the barstool there as well. It seems he’d gotten Julianna out of her clothes before Owen had taken off hardly any of his. Typical. Renton briefly wondered who had been more drunk. Julianna or Owen?

He stopped on the way back to the bedroom to get some coffee brewing. He returned to the room with the articles of clothing he had found. No panties in sight. He assumed they were somewhere in the bedroom.

“Here we are.” He chimed cheerfully as he laid the items on the bedspread for her. “So, are you the cute bar girl from Hopscotch I’ve heard about? Any other green eyed girls work with you or are you the one?”

“I have coffee brewing.” He reminded her as he turned away to give her privacy to dress.

RE: Whisky Sour [Closed] - megs - 04-24-2017

Julianna couldn’t help but grin when Renton did. The look itself was infectious, but so was his enthusiasm for details of her night with his boss. She only shrugged her shoulders and laughed lightly when he disregarded her offer to handle her transportation herself. She was still smiling when the cheerful assistant left the room. “Thank you!” she called after him.

Throwing off the blankets, she threw her legs off the edge of the bed and her feet didn’t touch the floor. She breathed and stretched, the TV was just noise in the background. She was no longer interested in the remainder of the talk show. She gave the room a quick search for her panties, and found them mixed up between the sheets near the end of bed. She could only laugh again, because she didn’t quite remember how they got there.

Stepping into them, she secured the thin fabric over her hips, before finding the remote and turning off the TV. As she looked around the room, ahe had little concern for her nakedness, even in the face of Renton’s imminent return. Her back was to the door, as Renton came sweeping back in, clothes in hand. She was admiring a piece of art hung on one of the walls. Head cocked to the side, she tried to decipher what exactly she was looking at, and if Owen had chosen it himself, or if he had a decorator.

Glancing at Renton over her shoulder, she turned and moved towards the bed before waiting to see if he was going to leave or turn around in the sake of privacy. Truly secure in her own form, and unbothered by her casual nakedness. If stripping on a rooftop balcony hadn’t been enough evidence of that. Coffee was sounding better and better as she dressed herself and Julianna now sort of wished she had a friendly assistant to make her coffee in the morning.

The sound of her laughter was muffled by the shirt she was tugging over her head when Renton inquired as to whether she was someone specific from the bar. She was giddy to hear that Owen had been talking about her. Enough so to mention the color of her eyes. She wiggled into her jeans and wondered what else he had said about her. “Well, I’m the only girl so I guess that would have to be me.” She laughed again as she moved to touch Renton on the shoulder, alerting him that it was safe to turn around. Julianna fluffed out her hair to make sure it wasn’t caught in her collar.

“He talks about me?” she asked, looking very pleased with herself as they walked together towards the kitchen for coffee. She would gladly satisfy his obvious excitement for gossip, if he'd do the same for her.

RE: Whisky Sour [Closed] - saronym - 04-26-2017

Renton found himself confronted with the naked body of Owen’s houseguest. It wasn’t that he intended to admire her but she didn’t seem ashamed in front of him so he had occasion to notice that she was pretty damn hot if he had a say in the matter. Healthy swell of ass and nicely shaped breasts. Owen had hit the jackpot. It wasn’t even just the shape of her, but also that unabashedness that made her that much more attractive. Exuding confidence in the way she held herself. It translated. Renton could certainly understand what his boss had found desirable in the her - if she was a bit on the young side.

Renton nodded understanding that he’d found the correct ‘cute bar girl’ that indeed there was no other cute bar girl.

Walking ahead of her, he gave a sort of half turn and walked while facing sideways into the kitchen. An enigmatic smile poised on his lips as he considered how much he was allowed to say. Owen was a very private man.

“He has mentioned you to me, yes.” He said carefully as he retrieved two mugs. They were modern, clear mugs with a frosted logo printed on them for Tac Industries. He filled each mug with a serving of dark coffee. On the island that dominated the middle of the kitchen, Renton set a saucer of cream and a dish of sugar and tiny spoons to stir.

Renton stirred an unnecessary amount of sugar into his coffee - probably revealing something about his personality needing coffee that sweet. “I knew he spent a lot of time down at your bar. So I asked him once what was it about the bar that kept him going back. Because, no offence, but drinks are drinks right?” Renton held up a hand to stop her in case she was going to disagree with his statement. “Don’t worry he schooled me already on fine whisky and it’s availability at your bar. But I did pry it out of him that he enjoyed a certain female bartender’s company.”

Renton revealed a whole lotta nothing in terms of new information but delivered in a meandering way. He wasn’t sure how much he should realistically say and hoped, perhaps, she wouldn’t notice he hadn’t added anything new to what he’d already revealed.

“Undressing on the balcony, though?” He made a show of fanning himself. “That sounds so steamy. I’m jealous.” He complained. And he was.

RE: Whisky Sour [Closed] - megs - 04-28-2017

Julianna settled into one of the high top chairs at the kitchen island. She inhabited the penthouse more comfortably than one should have after what could have been considered a one night stand, but she had always been easy-going, and Renton’s
company inspired her to feel welcome. She accepted her own mug with quiet thanks, as the charming assistant attempted to distract her with old information. She added cream and sugar to the dark, steaming brew and stirred it idly with a spoon.

Lifting the mug to her lips she laughed against the rim as he quickly stopped her before she could defend the merits of whisky. Which she would have and in great and enthusiastic detail. Showing an obvious bias for the drink and her own bar. When he finished speaking, she decided she was satisfied with the second mention that Owen talked favorably about her and allowed Renton to change the subject.

Besides, if the night they had spent together hadn't been enough for her to believe he thought highly of her, there wouldn't have been anything Renton could have said.

She still didn't look embarrassed when he mentioned the balcony and she hummed her own amusement over a sip of coffee. “When a handsome C.E.O. invites you to swim in his rooftop pool, you don't say ‘no.’” Grinning, she set the mug down and it turned it around and around with her fingers. Julianna didn't have the same notion of privacy that Renton entertained, it also didn't occur to her that Owen wouldn't like her gossiping with his personal assistant.

“He was being very difficult,” she explained. She propped one elbow in the counter and pressed her chin against it. “I was almost naked before I could even get him out of that vest.” Laughing she sat back in the chair and reached for her coffee again. “It was fun though,” she concluded in a vague summation of the night’s activities.

RE: Whisky Sour [Closed] - saronym - 05-10-2017

Renton laughed heartily at her commentary about rich CEO’s making suggestions that couldn’t be disobeyed.

“Indeed. Indeed.” He nodded before bending over to rest both his elbows on the counter. He kept his mug in his hands and tilted it just slightly to sip delicately from the cup. The bottom of his tie dangled away from his body in that leaned position. It was held by a shining tie clip placed fashionably above the fourth button.

Renton found himself laughing again at her take of the previous night’s events. He could certainly imagine his stoic boss resisting taking off his clothes for an eager bartender.

“Well, he’s lucky he was entertaining a woman who likes such...difficult men.” Ren placed a heavy emphasis on ‘difficult’ so as to suggest he knew how Owen enjoyed to have sex. As if to suggest that his boss had found a match in Julianna. Renton was too polite or too professional to put it anymore bluntly than he dared. Not that he necessarily had direct confirmation that Julianna was his type, as it were. All he knew was of her little swim and apparent strip show on the balcony in perfect view of other apartments. Seemed like fair enough signs to Renton.

“I am glad you two had fun. I can see what he likes about you Miss Julianna.” He smiled and breathed in the scent of his coffee. “So are you two like, a thing, now?”

His phone buzzed somewhere in his pocket, Renton straightened up to pull the device out and check the message. “The driver is here, but no rush!” He responded to the text and hid the phone away again in his breast pocket.

RE: Whisky Sour [Closed] - megs - 05-11-2017

Julianna smiled knowingly, before taking another sip of coffee. She was pretty sure she knew what Renton meant by difficult and was politely resisting saying anything else. She wouldn’t have minded if he had phrased it in a less-refined manner, but she reminded herself that he worked for Owen and they had literally just met. So, even though she already felt an obvious and budding sort of friendship with Renton, they should probably take these things a bit slow.

She giggled and looked entirely too pleased at the compliment that he bestowed upon her. Julianna figured Renton would know Owen well enough to express that she was Owen’s type if nothing else.

Humming thoughtfully, she took a long drink of coffee to buy herself some time as she mulled over Ren’s last question. A thing? Certainly, one night of great sex didn’t constitute 'a thing', and it obviously wasn’t something they had talked about before. Or after. “I don’t know!” She tried to sound chipper and optimistic by her meaningless answer. “We didn’t really talk about it, so who knows? Guess I’ll ask the next time I see him?” She grinned.

She didn’t know if she would see him again.

Obviously, she hoped she would.

Finishing the last of the coffee Julianna stood. “I should go, actually. Would love to stay, but duty calls and all that. There’s probably a ton of stuff to do at the bar.” She was talking too much now, making excuses. Renton had made her nervous when he’d inquired to the state of the relationship. She didn’t like not knowing, and she was beginning to wonder if she had made a mistake.

"So, where should I go? Just back down to the parking garage?"

RE: Whisky Sour [Closed] - saronym - 05-12-2017

Renton was smiling rather blandly as she admitted she didn’t know the future of her and Owen’s --- fling? Whatever it was.

It didn’t sound good to him.

He knew Owen to be quite an intentional person, at the very least he was with his business affairs and friendships. It was hard for him to imagine that Owen hadn’t been clear with Julianna about the scope of their ‘thing.’ He also hadn’t known that Owen had abandoned Julianna at his penthouse without saying a word that morning.

The assistant pursed his lips thoughtfully before taking a sip of coffee. A mischievous giggle escaped him, “I’ll also ask the next time I see him.” He winked. The joking was an attempt to cheer her up as he sensed he might have overturned something that wounded her a bit.

“Of course, of course. I have to get this stuff to Owen anyways before his meeting.” He tapped his finger on the files he’d come to retrieve. “The driver will actually be out front of the building. I’ll take you down.”

He collected both mugs and placed them neatly in the sink after pouring the remainder of their coffee out. Renton turned and retrieved the files and waited for Julianna to indicate she was ready to go. He locked up the penthouse and they entered the elevator together taking it to the ground floor.

“It was nice to finally meet you, Julianna.” He said and took out a business card from his breast pocket to hand it off to her. “If you need anything, or ever want to get together, give me a call! Or text.” He smiled letting her know he meant it. That he would like to keep contact with her.

The elevator let out into an expansive lobby with marble flooring, chandeliers, and modern furniture. Renton led the way to the doors, passing by the building’s fitness center and spa, a starbucks, the leasing offices, and the security desk. Near the leasing office, the newest sporty Tesla model had been parked inside. Some promotion about a short term lease of one of the condos coming with a Tesla lease. It was all too much.

The doors were opened for them by a classically dressed doorman in a long overcoat and pershing cap. “Mr. Bell,” He greeted Renton by name and opened the door with a white gloved hand, “morning ma’am.” He said to the disheveled Julianna. “The car is just there, sir.” He said pointing to the town car parked along the curb amidst other cabs and vehicles parked out front by the valets.

“Thanks so much Roland.” Renton said leading the way to the town car where a driver was perched in a lean against the side reading the paper. The man was dressed in a tailored black suit, shining dress shoes, and black leather driving gloves.

“Here we are.” Renton said to the driver who nodded and folded up his paper. “Julianna, this is Mr. Raleigh Lerner,” He said to introduce Julianna to the driver. “He’ll take it from here.”

“Thanks, Ren. Good morning, Julianna.” He smiled and opened the back door for her to enter the luxury town car.

"Where to?"

RE: Whisky Sour [Closed] - megs - 05-12-2017

Julianna laughed. Too quick and too loud when Renton joked about also inquiring to the state of her relationship, or potential lack thereof, with Owen. “You don’t have to do that,” she said, nervously pushing her hair back behind her ear. “I mean, he left sometime before I woke up, but I’m pretty sure I’ll see him like tonight or something.” She paused, staring at Renton, but she didn’t seem to be really registering him. She was thinking. “Right?” She seemed to be asking the assistant instead of speaking in a stream of consciousness.

She didn’t wait for an answer, because she wasn’t sure if she wanted one. Renton knew Owen better than she did and could possibly be the one to put the pieces together and tell her not to get her hopes up. Of course it was too late. Her hopes were up. Between the way they got along and the way they’d fucked it was kind of hard not too. She cleared her throat as she wanted towards the door and waited for Renton to escort her.

It was quiet in the elevator, Julianna stared down at her shoes as Renton took care of business on his phone. She leaned heavily against the wall, with her hands pinned behind her back, tapping her ballet flats lightly on the floor. The silence ended with pleasantries and Jules looked up at Renton with a smile. “It was nice to meet you too,” she replied, and meant it as she took the proffered business card. “Usually I have my own card,” she explained, tapping the heavy stock against the palm of her opposite hand. “I’ll text you later?” she offered, stepping out of the elevator. “So you have my number too.”

Julianna liked Renton, and kind of felt like she wanted to be friends with him. Regardless of what happened with Owen.

Though she had gotten used to the penthouse she was quickly overwhelmed by the rest of the rest of the luxury tower. Neatly dressed staff bustled around her, and she couldn’t help but feel out of place, between them and the impeccably dressed assistant she was walking with. She wondered if that had something to do with it. If Owen had bailed on her for reasons other than his interview.

Did he not want to be seen with her?

There was even a doorman and he knew Renton by name. It was too much. She felt like she was in a movie. She followed Ren to the car and wished she had been more insistent on walking. There was something weird about her would be walk of shame ending with her climbing into the back of a sleek town car in yesterday’s clothing. “Good morning,” she returned to Raleigh, smiling at him. She stood just before the car door and ran her hand down the sleeve of Renton’s jacket. “Thanks a bunch, Renton. I’ll see you soon.”

She may have sounded too hopeful.

“Hopscotch, downtown?” She requested of Raleigh, before sliding into the seat. She tried to get comfortable while the door was closed and he walked around to the front of the car. She pulled her phone out of her pocket to fiddle around with it. Not because she wanted to seem rude, just less nervous.

RE: Whisky Sour [Closed] - saronym - 05-13-2017

“Sure!” Renton had answered blandly. He didn’t know whether Owen would be seeing her that night; he had no reason to believe he wouldn’t go back and see her. Renton didn’t know that Owen had planned to completely ghost her. In the elevator, he nodded with a smile indicating that he’d await her text later so that he could have her number.

He passed her along to the driver and hurried to where his car was parked on a meter a few spots ahead. Renton waved over his shoulder at her, “Bye! Have a great day!”

Raleigh yes ma’amed her one more time and closed her into the car. He rounded to his driver’s seat and slid inside. The car was already on and the air conditioner circulated cool air throughout. He made a show of adjusting his rearview mirror and eased the car out into traffic.

“The whisky bar, correct?” He confirmed making eye contact in the mirror.

“Make yourself comfortable. There’s chilled champagne, wine, liquor, and mixers in the middle console there.” He smiled encouragingly trying to make her feel welcome. He didn’t know the gesture might emphasize the fact that he knew she was ‘out of place’ so to speak. The offering of alcohol was more out of his knowledge for Owen's tastes and he assumed a disheveled woman taking his boss' towncar must have similar tastes.

The drive wasn’t far and he quickly pulled up to the curb by the location she’d asked for. He let the car idle and got out to open the door for her, playing the role of perfect professional.

“Have a nice day, ma’am.”