Page 36 of The Thorne at My Side
I can tell Austin is paying attention. His eyes are focused and with each new little fact I drop they widen slightly behind his frames. I know I’m bordering on unhinged but now that I’ve started I’m going to keep going. I’ve got a point to make. And if it means he walks away and we don’t hook up tonight then fine, I’ll at least have released some stress by ranting.
“There’s a feedback issue for these high performing women too. Like 75% of them receive negative feedback from their bosses when their male peersget like 2% and most of what they hear is about their personalities.Smile more, be more cooperative.That’s inactionable criticism which, news flash, demotivates them! And then they perform worse which, spoiler alert, leads to more negative feedback at their next review. So even though more women are in powerful positions in corporate America, it’s still not a great place to be.
“Now, in politics it's undeniably a man's world. Senator Quinn has the opportunity to do something unprecedented here and the negative side of things will be insane if people spin it like she's cheating. If there is any type of story line ofshe couldn't do this on her own,she needed AIor something, I'm not sure she'd come back from that."
"But wouldn't she be seen as innovative?"
"Maybe, but I'm more realistic about the general population's opinion of women."
I take another sip of my beer and wait for Austin to argue but he doesn't say anything.
"Let's say she was a 47 year old single man with the same career, credentials, voting history,"
"But no tits," Austin provides and I glare at him while laughter bubbles in my chest.
"Correct, no tits," I say and he smiles proudly for getting the answer right and a little laugh sneaks out of me. "If she were a man the trending headlines about him wouldn't be about his wardrobe, or his skincare routine, or his diet. It would be about policy, his vision. It has taken us months of consistent messaging to have the press focus on her policies first. It's still a delicate balance. I'm afraid of doing anything that could send the narrative off in a direction I can't control."
"I think you need to have a little more faith in the media and the general public."
"Ugh! You would say that! Did you know that for every three articles or posts about her policies there are seventeen about her clothes, makeup and hair? You know as well as I do that reasonable headlines don't sell so media outlets spin things up to be sexier and in the world of the male gaze a woman's clothing choices are sexy."
I'm wound up. I have shifted forward in the chair and crossed my arms. Realization hits me that while Austin is in charge of this AI project he still works for a media company. I curl into myself a little more when I realize that he could turn around and report all of this to a gossip columnist at Thorne.
"Maybe we shouldn't do this anymore," I say as I stand up and walk to the kitchen. I set my beer down and let my head hang as I brace both hands on the counter. It felt good to get all that off my chest but what good does it do?
I gasp quietly as I feel Austin slide up behind me and press his wide chest into my back.
"You're an incredibly sexy woman Maggie,” he whispers into the shell of my ear and my knees tingle in response, “and hearing your passion for your job, for your candidate, it makes me want to be on your team." His fingers squeeze to release my claw clip before he brushes my hair off my shoulder and lands his mouth there. My head lolls back to fall on his shoulder. "But you need to learn how to trust people,” he whispers against my skin.
"What? I trust people just fine," I protest and when I try to turn around he presses me into the counter harder. I can feel his cock on my ass through my skirt and his jeans.
"Prove it," he says quietly in my ear as his fingers pull the zipper of my pencil skirt down. He drags it down my legs and helps me step out of it while I'm still hooked at the hips against the counter. Both of his hands runup the back of my legs before he grips my thong and pulls that down too.
His hands on my hips twist me before he gently lifts me onto the counter. He pulls his glasses off and sets them right next to his beer. My stomach flutters with excitement. That little movement is a promise of what’s to come.
The windows are open behind him and I can see people walking down the street. "Austin, the window," I start before he kneels in front of me, runs his hands up my thighs to part my legs, and his mouth descends to my pussy.
The walls come crashing down around me as he works my center with his mouth. My heart was racing when I started to share my thoughts on women in politics. I believe women are more capable than men in most things. But right now, my heart beats wildly to fuel the blood sprinting through my veins because a mouth on me is not something I can do on my own.
Austin latches onto my clit which sends my body into a tailspin. My toes tingle and my stomach clenches as I grind down to meet the movements of his tongue. The sensation is moving up through my body. I am not ready to let go. He feels so good. How does he know exactly what I need? I come undone as he slides a finger in me and I incant his name in praise.
He lifts his head and licks his lips. His dark eyes connect with mine as he takes a sip of his beer and sets the bottle back down before he grabs his glasses and slides them onto his face. Every small movement of his sends heat to my core and radiates out to my already melted legs. I don’t know what to make of the look in his ashen eyes. I slide off the counter and start to think about how we're going to continue our activities when he just gives me a curt nod and walks to the door. He opens it and leaves without looking back and I'm left standing half naked feeling sexually satisfied but mentally frustrated.
This thing between us is just sex I remind myself. I shouldn't care about his feelings. Or his mood. Or why our encounter just now felt like a turning point.
CHAPTER 13
Sisters and Situations
AUSTIN
I am so fucked.
When her taste, smell, the fucking beautiful sounds she made, flooded my senses, my chest pinched and I struggled to breathe. The sip of beer after going down on her only washed her more deeply into me.
I don’t hate Maggie Collins.
Not even a little.
