.
.
Mayors, Mimosas, and Machinations
.
.
"Mr. Scott, I apologize for the inconvenience, the mayor will be available shortly. Would you like anything else?" Sharon asked after delivering her news to a calmer, seated Gerard, along with a glass of water and two aspirin.
"No, thank you, Sharon." He palmed the little white pills and tossed them back with a swig of water. The pounding in his head, while improved in the quieter room, continued with a vengeance; bloody headache...made thinking a complex, painful affair.
"And Sharon."
"Yes, Mr. Scott?"
"About what I said earlier..."
"You mean about the chickens?"
"Yes, umm..." Gerard grimaced. What dodgy impulse made him blurt out chickens being tossed about by the mayor's employees? Worse yet, why did he even see chickens—or think so— twenty minutes ago? After Sharon departed earlier, he peeked out the interior office window blinds and all appeared normal—chaotic—but no unauthorized launching of dozens of fowl, their stray feathers cluttering the air. The City's health codes apparently in good affect, but not his eyes.
"This headache seems to have played havoc on my vision," he said.
"So...No more chickens in the Bullpen?" she asked undecided on this strange British man.
"Happy to report, none whatsoever," he replied adding his world renowned, off kilter smile that won friends, disarmed enemies, and convinced women of every nationality to willingly undress.
"Oh." Sharon giggled. "I'm glad. You know I suffer from migraines sometimes, but I've never hallucinated." She said sitting on the desk next to his chair, her olive tone skin darkening delightfully with a blush.
"You didn't happen to tell anyone else?"
"Oh, no, Mr. Scott, well...no one important, definitely not the mayor."
"Thank you," he said, resting his hand on her conveniently located knee. "It's most appreciated, Sharon," his voice a honeyed drawl.
"You're very welcome," she said leaning closer, her eyelashes fluttering.
"You know, I
would adore some coffee while I wait."
"Coffee?" She blinked rapidly.
"Yes, you asked if I wanted anything else," he said, his fingers lightly caressing her knee through her skirt.
"Oh, right." Sharon hopped of the desk. "I'll just run and get that for you, cream and sugar?"
"Please...thanks, luv." He grinned, Sharon giggled again as she left.
'That was entirely too close.' Feeling better he gathered his things, braced for the onslaught, and exited the room in search of Mayor Bloomberg. The Bullpen, as it was apparently nicknamed, still overwhelmed him but not as strongly since he now prepared himself for the bizarre work area. A few minutes of wandering towards what appeared to be the nerve center brought him success.
"Mayor Bloomberg?" Gerard said addressing the efficiently frenetic man whom he recognized from the City's publicity.
"Yes?" The middle aged, brunette man glanced up from his inclined standing position over a desk, his limbs fidgeting with restrained energy.
"Gerard Scott with Gray Engineering and Design of London," he said, holding out his right hand, "I have an appointment with you this morning, sir."
"Ah, yes...the Memorial project." Mayor Michael Bloomberg finished writing, straightened, and shook Gerard's hand, "How are you this morning, Mr. Scott? One of my interns said you were feeling ill?"
"I'm quite recovered, Mr. Mayor, thank you."
"Please, call me Michael. We're not formal in the Bullpen."
"Of course, you may call me, Gerard."
The mayor chucked his pen to his desk and motioned for Gerard to follow him, "Why don't we go somewhere quieter to talk while I look over your designs, Gerard."
"Most appreciated, Michael, the Bullpen, as you call it, is quite overpowering to one's sensibilities." Michael clapped him on the back affably and grinned.
"I hear that a lot. But you know it's the most efficient way I've ever found for dozens of people to communicate and accomplish an enormous amount of business; brought the concept with me from Wall Street."
"Indeed? It does rather remind me of the controlled pandemonium of a trading floor now that I consider it."
"Exactly!" Michael said, still grinning as he maneuvered Gerard away from the Bullpen blitzkrieg.
.
.
jsjsjsjsjsjsj
.
.
Kathy, her mouth agape, stared at Sarah over their brunch and mimosas enjoyed at a café close to Kathy's employment since she had no legitimate, or otherwise, reason to call off sick. Seeing her best friend speechless for the first time in years, Sarah decided it was well worth dragging her butt the ten blocks to meet Kathy for the traditional food, drinks, and spilling of the gory date details to the girlfriend.
"You're lying; you're just screwing with me because I made fun of you yesterday."
"I'm not lying, Kathy. Seriously, when have I ever lied about sex?"
"Well..." she fiddled with her omelet laden fork. "I'm
sure you have, just give me a sec to remember." Sarah's carefree laugh astounded Kathy; her friend sounded so...
relaxed. She struggled to remember the last time Sarah ever acted so lighthearted.
How about never, Sarah doesn't do stress-free, you know that! And she called in a mental health day off, too? "Damn, Sarah, who is this guy?"
"I told you, his name is Gerard Scott and he's an architect from London..."
"Skip the boring bio...
who is this guy?" she asked again waving her hand dismissively, her blue eyes intent as she leaned forward over their patio table located outside of the café. Slumping a bit in her seat, Sarah spoke in a low tone.
"I don't know, Kathy. But he's unlike anyone I've ever met before."
"I'll say."
"He's just so..." she gazed upwards searching for the perfect description.
Kathy picked up her mimosa holding it for a toast, "They say third time's the charm."
"Third?"
"Engaged twice already but no wedding, and now you sound like a teenager talking about her dream guy."
Sarah snorted. "Whatever, he's not my dream guy."
"Isn't he? Gerard said this, Gerard said that, Gerard did this, Gerard did that...sound familiar?"
"I've only really known him a day." Sarah protested, renewing her attack on her breakfast and deliberately ignoring Kathy's keen stare.
"And yet you can't stop talking about him!"
"He's going back to London in a week."
"So convince him to stay."
"Why are you nagging me about this?" She gave up on her food, her appetite fled anyway with all this talk about men and relationships and so on and so forth. Besides the potatoes were too salty, the eggs too runny, and the only thing that really tasted good was her mimosa, but if she drank too much orange juice on an empty stomach she'd be nauseated.
"Sarah." Kathy set her drink down, her eyes steady. "If what you say is true, this man can't get enough of you. Don't blow it by freaking out."
"Check: no freaking out, any other useful advice,
Mom?"
Kathy extended her fingers as she ticked off her advice, "No more insano behavior around him."
"Check: stop insano behavior."
"Call me first if you need to scream."
"Check: scream at Kathy first."
"And please, up your meditation schedule!"
"Double check: increase mediation. I got it and roger, wilco!" Sarah snapped off a sloppy salute and grinned while Kathy shook her head in mock mortification.
"Sarah, Sarah, Sarah, you'll never survive this alone. This calls for reinforcements."
"Reinforcements?" Sarah's eyes widened.
"We're getting together with our men for a double date!" Kathy said with a peculiar gleam in her eyes, practically bouncing in her chair like a toddler.
"Oh, God..." How the hell would she
survive this?
.
.
jsjsjsjsjsjsj
.
.
"Your work is exceptional, Gerard, very well put together and the design...inspired, really quite magical." Mayor Bloomberg said as he shuffled papers laid out before him to and fro. He sat across from Gerard, a large coffee table separating their ultra-padded, leather wing chairs.
"I can see why your firm regards you as their top architect, truly superb work."
"Thank you, Michael." Gerard heaved a tactful sigh of relief. He hadn't cocked up the interview with his barmy talk of chickens, and his work continued brilliantly in spite of his intense distraction with Sarah. Even his head improved. "I'm glad you think so and happy that my reputation precedes me."
"Oh, it does! I only wish I could finalize the choice myself. However, it's required to go before the 9-11 Memorial Board of Trustees."
"I see."
"Yes, I only have first vote on finalists, but you're definitely in." The mayor smiled as he sipped his coffee, "When are you supposed to return to London?"
"A week," Gerard said, "but I can reschedule if needed."
"Excellent! Do that, the board is convening again in a couple of weeks, and they like to meet the finalists whenever possible."
Two weeks! He was suitably trapped in the States for at least another fortnight without the nuisance of inventing an excuse to either his employer or Sarah. Beaming, Gerard returned Michael's enthusiastic handshake over the table as they stood.
"May I forward this to the Board?" Michael asked indicating Gerard's work.
Nodding, Gerard neatly gathered the papers and returned them to his portfolio, "Yes, of course. I have copies of everything."
"As I said, excellent reputation, truly a professional, Gerard," Michael said as he carefully took the portfolio. "I'll be sure to have my own staff hand deliver these to the Board's offices, and my assistant will give you a receipt for them before you leave. Also, give your local contact information to him and he'll forward everything pertinent regarding the upcoming Board meeting to you. "
"Thank you, I appreciate that, Michael. I've very glad to have met you and hope to do business in the future."
"My pleasure, Gerard, I'm happy to have met you as well, and I hope we'll be seeing more of you." Mayor Bloomberg escorted Gerard from the private room, through the Bullpen, and introduced him to his assistant—a young man engaged in multi-tasking with numerous other employees. Several minutes later, Gerard gratefully left the Bullpen behind him with a broad smile and broader step. Things were certainly looking smashing lately.
He couldn't wait to tell Cassie and Sarah the good news and devil take Melanie. He was bloody well rid of the high maintenance, nagging bint, even if she was stunningly beautiful. No woman was worth the amount trouble she brought to a relationship...even the sex failed to compare now that he knew of Sarah. Only an awkward international phone call remained, or perhaps he'd allow her to stew in ignorance, he smirked.
.
.
jsjsjsjsjsjsj
.
.
"Come on, come on, pick up," Cassie said into the speaker of her work phone, her fingers drumming an impatient staccato on the desk laminate. Her break ended soon and she wanted to get this conversation with her booty call boyfriend over with as quickly as possible.
"Whatzup?"
"Jeff? Hey, it's Cassie."
"
Cassie, long time, no hear, babe," he said. She heard eager nonchalance in his voice. He never was good at subtlety or brains; hence his forever stalled position as a man of convenience. But he ranked high on the hotness scale and his skills in bed...well, she never mentioned his talents to Gerard otherwise he would be a Jeff sis-kabob.
"Yeah, hey, you free sometime this week?"
"Sure, babe, I am for you; the usual?"
"Great, uh...not exactly," she said, delaying a bit. How to say this? They never dated really, just take-out and sex, maybe an occasional video. "Um, my brother's in town and I need a favor."
"Okay..." Jeff said, drawing the word. Was he finally getting an upgrade? 'Bout damn time! He'd been hanging on for months for this girl. Hot, smart, and a firecracker in bed!
"See, he's met someone and I want to get to know her, but not, you know, stalk her."
"Not following ya, babe."
"I need a double date situation, casual, see what we can suss out of her," she said, her sweaty palm clutching the phone. Geez, this sucked. The things she did for her brother.
"Oh, right, I gotcha ya. What, like maybe, dinner and dancing? Get a few drinks in her, get her talking."
"Sure, that's sounds perfect!" Maybe Jeff wasn't a total loss.
"I got ya covered, babe. Just tell me when and I'll plan everything," Jeff said smugly. Finally, Cassie needed him for more than a good bang. He'd do the evening right, really shine, and help get the dirt on this new babe.
"Thanks, Jeff, I'll talk to my brother and get back with you about the day."
"Awesome, Cassie, see ya soon!"
"Bye!" She hung up and released the anxious tension she'd been holding in; this just might work. Maybe Jeff could pull this off without cocking it up, if so she might just have to give him a second look...maybe. Now to speak with Gerard about a double date with his precious Sarah Williams once she saw him later tonight. Her fingers drummed again as she plotted her next step.
.
.
jsjsjsjsjsjsj
.
.
Someone knocking on her front door woke Sarah from her early afternoon nap, and she rolled from her couch, stumbling and bleary-eyed, to answer it. Checking her wall clock on the way, she saw that it was just after 2 o'clock...hmm, about an hour's worth of sleep after arriving home from her brunch with Kathy. The knocking repeated, louder.
"Hold your horses, I'm coming!" She peered through the peephole and gasped before scrambling to unlatch her door.
"Gerard!" She barely said as she opened her door when he leapt inside and attached his lips to hers, the momentum propelling her backwards.
"Bloody hell, Sarah, I've missed you!" he said between rapid kisses deftly securing the door behind him then concentrating solely on her. "God, the interview couldn't end soon enough, then a long cab ride back, change of clothes, and viola to your doorstep." He explained as he trailed urgent kisses up and down her neck, his hands roaming freely over her body unable to settle on one place for long.
"No phone call?" she asked.
He paused, pulling his head back, "Do you mind? I assumed you'd want to..." His supreme confidence faltered, hands stilling, eyes dimming.
'You git, you've bollocks it up good and proper now,' he thought, watching her sober gaze warily. What was he thinking dropping in like this? He should've rung her as he said he would. She'll have you out the door at quits before you can speak a decent apology for assuming such liberties. She'll...
"Shut up and kiss me." Sarah grabbed his shirt collar yanking him back to her lips, her tongue restoring his shaken confidence. Gerard fully complied with her command. Apparently some of his rambling, apologetic thoughts leaked passed his lips, he just was unsure which ones, but didn't care as long as she allowed the glorious snogging to continue. She guided them to the couch she recently vacated, and gently pushed him backwards until he sat with heavy plunk. Sarah gazed down at him with a lustful expression, her eyes radiant.
"When's the last time you had a lap dance?" Gerard coughed as if he'd swallowed wrong then leered, shimming his hips a bit.
"Far, far too long and I'm quite sure they were all pathetic excuses compared to what you've in mind, luv," he said, quickly unfastening and pushing down his jeans, freeing the erection he sported since leaving his sister's flat. Sarah noticed he went commando (was a bit distracted the night before she reminded herself) and unconsciously licked her lips at the full, day light view of her prezzie— Gerard, party of OHMYGOD!
'For which we are about to receive, may we be truly grateful, Amen!' she thought harkening back to her Catholic upbringing with a decidedly naughty slant, and hoping her step-mother never got a direct line into her head as she butchered the prayer.
"Well," Sarah pulled her t-shirt over head exposing her bare breasts, her nipples already erect and he groaned. "I'll just have to remedy that." If one must be rudely awakened from a pleasant nap, sex really is the best reason Sarah decided.
Gerard grabbed her hips drawing her closer as she loosen her own jeans, his hands smoothing their way up her torso to cup her breasts, his thumbs rubbing over her sensitive nubs. Her head falling back, she faltered at her zipper; the electric sensations sparking over her skin igniting sharp lust which shot straight to her womb.
"Oh, fuck, Jer, d-don't stop."
"Never," he said leaning forward to replace one thumb with his mouth, his tongue flicking. She moaned, running her hands in his hair, hanging on. He could stay like this forever, working her to frenzy. Teeth replaced his tongue and she jerked, her hands leaving his hair to quickly finish unzipping her jeans. He helped her shimmy the denim down over her hips, pulling her panties with while his mouth switching to her other breast. Once her jeans puddled at her ankles, Sarah gave his shoulders a shove and he flopped back against the couch.
"Ah-ah, this is my show." She stepped out of her clothing and kicked them aside, feeling her moisture gush at the licentious blush over Gerard's face ending at his overwhelming eyes.
"Bloody, fucking hell, Sarah, you're killing me, time is short."
"What?" She cocked her head, freezing, taken aback at his words. "What do you mean?"
"I mean I've been thinking about you all day, luv, dreaming about you!" He grabbed her hips yanking her smoothly down onto his lap, positioning her until he tucked perfectly between her warm, moist, outside folds.
"Fuck, I've been about to burst all day just remembering last night," he said as he rotated his hips, building up exquisite friction until she groaned and thrust her counterpoint rhythm.
"I've been thinking about you, too," she said, her breathing speeding up.
"Yeah? Thinking about this, then?" His voice dropped an octave, grew huskier. "Thinking about me...inside you?"
"Oh, yeah," she said, the confession came easily as his presence immediately calmed her nerves, just as before. Pulling her close, Gerard kissed her; his hands grasping her buttocks to assist her rocking. Sarah blindly unbuttoned his shirt, opening the edges like a curtain to his smooth chest and rested her hands flat to his pectorals.
"Need you, luv, need to be in you," he said between heavy breaths and kisses. Sarah nodded impatiently and they both maneuvered until he slipped inside fully; dual sighs of relief and euphoria escaping them as his rigid manhood filled her.
"Oh, God, Gerard, you feel so good." She rested her forehead to his, her torso undulating over his while he helped support her pace and weight with his hands.
"Sarah, precious, so tight," he said, his voice low and gruff, barely above a whisper. Their eyes, so close, bored into one another, "don't stop, please..." He begged.
"Never," she answered, "Never." Her climax spiraled quickly, this position bringing him deep within her and touching all the right places. The wave of pressure built in her pelvis, each thrust adding more sensation. Having such access, Gerard reached around with one hand and stroked her swollen, sensitive bud and felt her shudder in his arms.
"Sa-rah," he gasped, feeling his groin tighten as he neared his own orgasm. Her inner walls trembled around him, squeezing him. Raising his hips he met her with several deep thrusts. Her tight, moist channel finishing him, he shouted her name just as she reached her peak, shouting his name as well.
Requited, she collapsed in his arms, her head dropping upon his shoulder. He wrapped his arms firmly around her keeping her securely tucked to him. Slowly he eased them down on the couch to lie on their sides, still entangled, to drift off into a hazy state of semi-consciousness.
. A/N: Awww...thanks! You love my stories! What a great compliment! As for Gerard...Magic 8 ball says: ask again later. There's so much more to tell and as usual with my fics what you think you know isn't what you know. FYI: I've posted my original story 'Dreams of the Queen' in the originals section and under my profile jinx1764 for anyone interested in reading my original work. Chapter 2 is up!
