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Word count: 3229
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The room was silent for a good couple of seconds, each man in deep thought as they absorbed the knowledgeable tactics that had spewed from Monica's delicate lips while she made her presentation. They were all in typical black or grey shiny suits and each had a serious facial expression, each board member having a thought of his own.
Monica tried her best to avoid eye contact with her ex-husband who, throughout the presentation, looked like he would rather be anywhere but his eyes told a different story because they never left her for once.
"So, is that all you have gathered for us so far, miss O'Brien?" Greg asked. He was Monica's immediate superior and she only man who looked less serious or as she would rather put it, hard faced, compared to every other man in the room.
Monica noticed him ogling her while she made her presentation but she knew he couldn't approach her or make her feel uncomfortable by pushing whatever feelings he had been developing towards her, so she chose not to dwell much on his creepy ways of staring at her.
However, it bothered Monica that her ex-husband's heated stare didn't creep her out.
She blamed it on the heat of having to be the only woman sitting in a room full of rich, influential men. The testosterone level was too high.
"Yes sir. That is all and thank you. Please throw your opinions if you have any so we can make the final draft." She replied him and took her seat while applauses went around the room.
"We thank everyone who participated in this honorable meeting and hope all the misunderstandings have been cleared with regards to who'll head the branch in London. The engineering department has sent the new sets of machine sketches and the finance department has also delivered their reports." Greg further stated. Some of the men mumbled to each other while Monica made the needed jottings down.
"Is there agenda we haven't pushed forward?" He asked her, caressing his lower lip with his thumb. Sucre noticed the way Greg Matthews was shamelessly ogling Monica. His left eye twitched.
"We're all good Sir." Monica replied Greg after a going through everything on the list.
"Now, does anyone have anything to add before we do the final conclusions?"
Sucre adjusted in his chair and raised a hand. If not for the particular woman in the room who had taught him that little bit of information a few years back, he would have spoken without signifying. He didn't care about being formal.
"I would like to adjust two errors I noted in Mrs-"
"Monica O'Brien. Miss Monica." Greg finished for him, a proud smile on his face as his eyes roamed slowly over Monica's form, the same oblivious Monica who was trying to look unconcerned before her ex-husband.
"Yes, Mrs. Monica's evaluation." Sucre repeated after him, a tight and burning glower fixed on Greg's face.
Sucre's jaws flexed with each word and Monica found it hard to take her eyes off those sculpted jaws. Those jaws she had pressed her two palms over when they ate her out and sucked on her intimately years ago.
The image played in her head and she squirmed to keep herself from getting affected in the nether region but it was of no use. When she started, it was hard for her thoughts to stop running where he was concerned. She had just regained her composure from the encounter at the elevator, so she shook her head to ward off further thoughts about him.
"The first one is that, the Thomas Company isn't being affiliated with the Petsmoni's as she might have been made to believe. It has been bought...by us."
All heads turn to face each other and they nodded, their facial expressions of approval growing on their faces. Monica's eyes widened in surprise.
She hadn't been told this important piece of information and now she partially felt like a fool for all the errors that could possibly exist in her presentation. Her immediate boss and the managing director of Petsmoni industry, Greg Waters and the overall boss and CEO, Daniel Sullivan both kept quiet, a glum expression on their faces. It was as if talking about the company being sold shamed them in some way.
"Number two is that the name, which Greg had earlier called you," he pointed at Monica with a hard expression, "isn't your name and as long as I am agreeing to save the reputation of this company, you will bear your real name."
The silence that fell between them wouldn't match that in a cemetery.
"What do you mean Sir?" Greg spoke.
Monica's mouth dried up for the second time in a day and it was only ten twenty AM. Partially, she wished the earth would split in a small amount and swallow her alone. The room felt hot, as if it had closed in on her.
She suddenly realized she badly needed a good amount of caffeine in her system or it might shut down!
"Her actual name is Monica Ambrosia, no longer O'Brien. It hasn't been O'Brien for four years." He gritted out. Monica felt flustered that he would dare say such a thing in the presence of so many business associates though she knew half of them, having gotten introduced to them over time in the company. That still wasn't the case at hand.
The meeting was a professional one and should be handled thus.
"That has nothing to do with the issue on ground." She spat with flared nose.
"It has everything to do with it. Also Greg, this is a formal gathering. Never address her as Monica but Mrs. Ambrosia, ever again!" Sucre ordered sternly, ignoring the scowl on his wife's face.
"What is it to you?" Greg demanded from Sucre with a contorted expression.
Monica kept quiet and wondered where the discussion was going. Sucre had royally ruined her day, despite the several plans she had gone through to make it a success — that too in the presence of two representatives from other companies, some board members and her CEO.
"She is my wife." The man spoke straightforwardly. The other board members began to murmur amongst themselves again.
"Was!" Monica corrected him with a growl. Her head was getting hotter by the minute. Her bosses were looking at her with both shocked and incredulous looks.
"Mo- Mrs. Monica, is this true?" Greg asked with a red face. Obviously the information was too much for him and it put him in a tight spot.
He'd been flaunting her office familiarity with him around and speaking to her so casually so other company officials would think they were an item.
As Monica looked at Greg, she couldn't tell if the redness on his face was due to anger or embarrassment, after all his generosity towards her. He probably thought he had a chance with the woman.
"I can explain Sir. This man was my husband four years ago." She spat. She didn't know why she was even explaining herself.
"Still is. And you don't need to explain yourself to anyone." Sucre spoke, the aura emitting off him slowly warning Monica to be careful. She eyed him with so much anger and hoped she would refrain herself from doing something like stabbing him with a pen in one of his luscious thighs.
"Alright. Gentlemen, we are really sorry for how this meeting will be ending and I won't let it ruin the minute. The meeting has come to a close now and all we'll keep working according to the plan." Mr. Sullivan finally spoke. The silence stretched in the room before the men began to get up one by one and shake hands. They left and Monica was remaining in the room with Greg and Sucre.
"I would like to be alone with my wife." Sucre told Greg who was lingering around. He opened his mouth to object but then swallowed and nodded, taking his leave.
Monica felt the tears of anger gathering in her eyes but she blinked rapidly and willed herself not to cry. She was more than embarrassed, especially with how her ex-husband dared to act in a meeting. The cocky bastard wasn't worth her tears and she would be damned if he thought he was.
"You already did your worst. This is nothing." She managed to say, making sure her emotions were in check.
She had stayed away from him but the son of a gun had to ruin her day on their first meeting after four solid years.
"I didn't come here to ruin anything and I didn't ruin anything all those years when you left me too."
"You didn't? Then who did, was I the one that ruined things then? Tell me!"
"It is hard for you to accept the blame so you push it on others." He snapped darkly. Monica felt the stab in her heart, anger flaring deep inside her with his words. He had no right to say that after what he did. Anger burned in her chest and begged to be unleashed on the ignoramus fellow sitting across the conference table from her.
She left her seat and made her way to him, raising her hand to strike him on the cheek but he caught it easily with a hard expression. The furious look in his eyes turned Monica on in a way that baffled her and she rested her lower self on the conference table for support before her legs would give out on her.
"Wh-why have you come here, Sucre? What do you want?" Her breathing became ragged due to the close proximity between them.
Looking intently at her with his brown orbed gaze, Sucre gently picked her hand and brought it to his lips to trace lingering kisses on each finger. He couldn't resist the urge to feel her skin against his palm. Her breath intake increased rapidly and her eyes became clouded with desire as she stared at his chin.
Memories of how the light growing stubbles tickled her when they made love had her pressing her legs together desperately. This should stop! She hated how her body reacted to his touches.
"I have come for you."
At this, Monica threw her head back and laughed softly. Then she sobered.
"We both know that is impossible." She said slowly. Her voice sounded strange in her own ears. Like she needed to carefully explain to Sucre how absurd he sounded.
"Is it?" The challenge in his eyes was fierce.
Placing his palms on her waist, he pulled her closer to him and her breath hitched. Paralyzed with the familiar feeling, his touch sent jolts of electricity through her skin.
Monica's eyes weakly darted to his lips as his intense brown eyes bore into her. She had been trapped. She knew she was no match for the man she thought she had moved on from because at the end, her heart was still in his palms whether he knew it or not. Still, she'd be damned if he ever found that out.
"I think we've spent enough time talking."
"Talking isn't what I want with you, my love." Sucre said with slightly dilated pupils. She knew what that meant. He was turned on.
"Don't do that, Sucre. I'm not your love. And you need to let me go because I have other things to tend too. More important things-"
In a split second, his lips were on hers.
"What do you think you're doing?" She asked against his lips even though her words were muffled by his lips on hers.
Sucre's left arm went around her, pulling her flush against him while his right hand fisted the back of his head.
He kissed her. Raw. Hungrily. With fire.
She tried to pull away but when he thrust his tongue into her mouth and used a finger from the nape of her neck to caress the spot behind her ear, Monica found herself losing fight. That spot was her weak spot and the idiot knew it.
She glared at hiss hut eyes even as they kissed. When she tried to bite his lip, Sucre moaned against her lips and broke away to mutter how kissing her was still so addictive and then he was kissing her again.
Her heart beat frantically against her chest. He was enjoying this. matching the fury in his eyes as their lips moved against each other. She couldn't restrain herself from the brute man, she yielded to his touch.
Sighs were swallowed with closed eyes and Monica fought her body's urge to press itself into his chest when he pulled her closer impossibly to himself. His left hand slowly traced her side to cup her left breast, sending shock rippling through her nipples. No one ever touched her right before him and after she left him, she hadn't gone on dates, talk less being intimate with any man.
Sucre's other hand firmly hoisted her up the long conference table and she wrapped her legs around him in desperation to reduce whatever space was left between them.
He traced the same hand over her skirt without taking his lips off hers and she easily parted her laps to give him more access as her skirt gathered up to her waist with his tugging. The fact that they might get caught didn't register as she allowed him trace his hand towards her sex and feel how excited she was.
"Goodness babe, I've missed this."
Hurt flashed in Monica's eyes and they flew open.
She felt the searing pain penetrate right into her heart through the desire clouding her judgment. "Don't you dare call me your babe!
"Alright love. I won't." He chuckled. His mouth hungrily closed over hers to swallow the rest of her protests when he saw her parting her lips to say more. The blazing fury in her eyes turned him on in a rather unbelievable way.
She was soaking her undies already and it was as if her lips were opening up heatedly, waiting for his attention. The throbbing and yawning of those lips were evident and Sucre smirked against her lips, plunging his tongue into her mouth and eliciting a groan from her.
When Sucre's hand felt her nub, Monica moaned into his mouth and he eagerly swallowed it. Her right hand on his shoulder reached to tug at his soft hair, reminding her of just how well she used to love running her hands over it while their tongues battled for dominance in the past.
When a finger entered her, she gasped at the familiar feeling and felt a thin shudder travel through her. Her legs widened as Sucre pushed impossibly closer between her thighs.
She detached her lips from his and stared at him, the physical and emotional satisfaction of feeling the same way she used to do all those years washing over her. Without mercy, he began to rock his index finger in and out of her, watching the contorted expression he'd prompted to cloud over her face.
"You're free to scream, you know. I want the whole building to know what I'm doing to you— to my wife." He rocked his finger, feeling himself harden.
"Fuck you!" She spat but it came off more as a moan.
"Oh love, I assure you we're getting there." His tone matched hers, the desire to see her getting a fill of his rock hardness was nothing but enticing.
When Monica let out a sigh, Sucre added another finger and stretched her a bit. "You bastard..." She trailed off in a moan.
Her hands became lost in his dark hair once again and she rapidly moved her lips over his, challenging him in a fierce tongue battle which he eagerly accepted.
"Can you still come with my hand in your sopping cunt?" He questioned huskily against her lips.
Monica's yawning feminine lips clenched desperately against his fingers and she moaned again at the effect of his words. She traced her hand over his erection through his suit pant and could feel him hard as a rock. Sucre removed her hand and guided it back to his chest.
He growled. "Can you?" He increased the pressure with a second finger, curling them inside her.
He hoped no one had done this since their time apart but then, another part of him knew Monica was faithful.
Still, they hadn't been together in a long while.
And she still thought he had signed the divorce papers.
What if she had a fuck buddy? His eyes narrowed at the thought.
He knew she had no lover and wasn't in a relationship, he'd been keeping tabs on her all these years. He wouldn't contain it if she was in an affair with some fucker. She was his!
When Monica nodded, his jaws clenched a little. "I'm waiting, love."
"Ahh. I think so. Yes, I should come... I guess." Monica rasped heatedly, lost in the pleasure as she panted in bliss.
"Let's see if you can." Sucre posed questioningly.
His hand reached for the buttons of her shirt, undoing them and she hurriedly pulled it off her. He grabbed one breast from its confine, staring at it as if it was gold before flicking the hook which was at the center of her breast and latching his wet, hungry tongue on it.
He worked his pace, fast and hard in her heat with his mouth not leaving her mounds. When his hand curled in her and flicked over her clit, she screamed out her orgasm with tight eyes and heat flooded over her.
For seconds, Monica kept her tone loud, moaning and muttering incoherent words before she came down from her high.
Sucre had a lazy smirk on his face, enjoying the look only he would ever get to see on her face. Monica finally opened her eyes to catch Sucre looking down at her with an unreadable expression, eyes intense. He looked like the boy she used to know, not the man that used her years ago— a ruthless and arrogant man.
"Come back to me." He muttered and pressed his lips down on hers again.
She pushed him off her and got to her feet, adjusting the creases of her skirt and top. Then she packed her things and tried to look as unaffected as believable even with her sleekness still smearing between her thighs.
"If you're think what we just did qualifies us to be more than exes, then you're delusional. After what happened between us, I'll let you know that this means nothing. It won't change the fact that we might please each other sexually but that doesn't mean we're ever going to be an item again. You were only a means to an end. Have a nice day, Ambrosia." She gave him a smirk when she saw the tick in his jaw, loving the fact that she had the upper hand and had for once left the businessman speechless.
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What do you think about this chapter?
How do you view Monica based on what just happened between them?