17. Held in His Hands
1715 Words
As we sit there after having swallowed each other’s moans, I’m still wrapped up in Ric, my arms around his neck, body pressed against his as he leans back in his office chair. He runs a finger slowly down my bare back, sending little sparks through me as he plants soft kisses along my shoulder, his breath warm against my skin. I chuckle, breaking the comfortable silence, looking around the office and the mess we’ve made.
“We made quite a mess, didn’t we?” I grin, glancing back at him.
He lifts his head, his eyes meeting mine with a look that’s both warm and a little mischievous. “A mess I’d happily make every day,” he says, his voice low and rough, sending another little thrill through me as he leans in to kiss me again. His kiss is so soft and gentle that I find myself questioning if this is the same guy who minutes ago whispered ‘mine’ in my ears with every thrust. He trails light circles on my back, and I just let myself feel the soft intimacy of the moment, so different from the intense way he took me just minutes ago. I can feel the soreness in my body, but it’s a good one — one that leaves me completely satisfied.
Ric’s gaze shifts up after a moment, and there’s a glint in his eyes, almost playful. “So, Natalie, tell me,” he starts, a teasing edge to his voice, “why did you really come here?”
I pretend to look confused. “What do you mean?” I ask, arching an eyebrow. “Can’t a girl show up just to be… well, thoroughly f****d against an office desk?”
He smirks, giving me a knowing look. “Maybe. But I think I know you well enough to know there’s more to it.”
I sigh, feeling a little caught but not minding it. I lean down, giving him a quick kiss before I search for my purse on the floor, clothes scattered around it. “Alright, you’ve got me,” I admit with a grin. “Can you grab my purse?”
He raises an eyebrow but picks it up and hands it to me. I dig around, pulling out a thin folder, handing it to him. He glances at the cover: Turning Point Industries—Client Project Proposal.
“A new project?” he asks, eyebrow still raised.
“Yep,” I say, meeting his eyes. “My father challenged me to take on this client. I plan to prove him wrong — to show him I’m more than just a pretty face in a few movies.”
He flips through a few pages, scanning the details, and looks back at me, intrigued. “And you need my help?”
“Yes,” I admit, feeling a spark of excitement, mixed with a little nervousness. “I’m good, but not that good. Not yet, anyway.” I lean in closer, lowering my voice with a playful smile. “And even if I were, I’d still find an excuse to spend time with you.”
“Well, I can’t say I mind being your excuse.” He glances back down at the file, his fingers idly running along the edge of the pages. “Your dad really set you up with this one,” he says, voice thoughtful. “He never did appreciate what you built on your own, did he?”
I shrug, brushing it off with a practised nonchalance. “He’ll never see my career as more than a whim," I say lightly. “All those red carpets and movies? Just playing dress-up to him.”
He watches me closely, that look of understanding in his eyes that always seems to catch me off guard. “But you’re here now. This project — you really want it to work out, don’t you?”
I pause, trying to gauge my own reaction. I’d been so eager to show my father that I could handle something outside his expectations of me, that I could take on real business, as he’d call it. “It’s more than just proving a point," I say finally, though my voice wavers slightly. “If I get this client to sign then it means I win. I’m capable. I need to succeed at this, Ric. I want him to see that I’m capable, even if I have to beat him at his own game.”
He nods slowly, seeming to understand. “Well, I think we can do more than that,” he says. “But let’s be clear on one thing: you don’t need his validation.”
“Maybe I don’t,” I say, folding my arms and leaning back against him with a grin. “But it’d be a hell of a lot more satisfying to watch him realise it.”
Ric gives me a long look, his eyes thoughtful. “For the record, you’re more than a pretty face,” he begins in a serious voice only to then grin like a fool. “You have great t**s too.”
I scoff, feeling my ears burn. I look away, and joke, “Haha, that’s very funny.”
Ric sets the file aside, barely recovering from his comment. “Your father came by earlier,” he says after a moment. “He had a lot to say about your little performance at the summit.”
I scoff again, rolling my eyes. “Of course he did.”
Ric chuckles lightly. “Before you showed up, I was reading the articles from the summit — instead of what I was really supposed to be doing. Well, most of them were about what happened on the red carpet, not in the auditorium. Do you know that your husband’s business has taken a hit?”
I don’t think I have ever tasted anything sweeter. The words work like a soothing balm on a burning wound. “He’s not my husband anymore. Feel free to call him an ‘asshole’ though. But on that note bring out the wine. It’s time to celebrate.”
Ric chuckles. “Tell me, Natalie, did you really like my speech that much?”
I bite my lip. “Oh, they mentioned that bit too?”
He grabs my chin before he pulls me closer by my neck. “You’re such a tease, Natalie,” he whispers, his eyes fixed on my lips. “Were you even listening to what I said? I made that speech because you insisted.”
I give him the answer I know he’ll like. “I was glued to every word that came out of your pretty mouth.”
Ric chuckles again, then surprises me by pulling me into a kiss, deep and intense, his lips moving over mine in a way that makes me feel like the only person in the world. When he finally pulls back, he presses his forehead to mine, looking at me with that soft, heated gaze of his.
“You know,” he murmurs, voice low, “I like hearing you talk.”
I smile at that, but the memory of that night with Mike suddenly returns, unexpected and overwhelming, making my lips curl into a frown. Ric notices it, of course and doesn’t hold back from asking, “Hey, what happened?”
“Ric…” I hesitate, trying to find the words. “I wanted to apologise for how I treated you that night. For asking you to leave. It wasn’t fair.”
He looks at me, his eyes flickering with some emotion. “You don’t owe me an explanation.”
“I think I do,” I say, feeling the need to be honest. “If you’d stayed, I would’ve broken down. I would’ve completely lost it, and I didn’t want you to see me like that… weak.”
Ric’s hand comes up to my cheek, his fingers tracing gently. “Being strong doesn’t mean being alone, Natalie,” he says quietly. “You don’t have to push people away to prove anything. Especially not me.”
There’s a rawness in his voice, and I feel the vulnerability of it settle in me. “It was embarrassing,” I admit in a small voice. “I didn’t think I’d react that way. I wanted to be stronger, to show Mike that I didn’t care about him or anything he said. I believed I was stronger, but the way I reacted, it was pathetic and…” my voice trails off as I think back on the pregnancy test I took. Mike’s confession had truly shaken me off the ground.
He nods, fully listening. “You’re not a machine, Natalie. You’re a real, breathing, living, beautiful human. You can’t just turn off your feelings like that, especially after everything with him. It takes time, and it takes more than most people think to undo years of attachment. Honestly? Your reaction was more than justified.”
I feel a bit of relief at his words, but there’s still a nagging doubt. “I should have handled it better.”
He shakes his head, pulling me closer. “One day, you’ll forgive yourself for it,” he says, his tone gentle but sure. “You’ll realise you were being too hard on yourself.”
I give a little scoff, rolling my eyes to hide the emotion building up inside me. “Is that wisdom coming with age?” I tease, raising an eyebrow to lighten the moment.
He smirks, catching on. “Did the way I f****d you make you think about my age?” he fires back, his voice dropping to a rough whisper.
I grin, feeling my cheeks warm. “Not at all. In fact, you might’ve just set the bar for every other man.”
Ric lets out a low laugh, his hand running down my thigh. Then he leans back, his eyes shifting slightly as he takes on a more relaxed look. “Now that’s an answer I like,” he says, a small grin on his lips. “So, what do you say — ready to talk business?”
I nod, giving him a determined smile. “More than ready.”
- Writer
