by A. C. Arthur
“Welcome to The Corporation.” His voice sounded rugged with the words but she smiled in return.
Dylan moved around her to close the door.
He led her to the table and pushed her chair in when she was seated. The back of the dress was every bit more alluring than the front. He returned to the chair he’d been sitting in before she arrived, undid the button of his jacket and took a seat.
“You invited me here for dinner?” she asked with a nod to the expensive china dishes and crystal glasses that had been set on the black tablecloth.
“This club isn’t just for sex,” he replied.
“Really?” she lifted a brow and that’s when he noticed how pretty she looked with the light layer of make-up she’d applied.
She’d also done something with her hair, pulling it to the side so that the curly ends fell over her left shoulder, while a sparkly clip held it in place.
“Do they have a menu or did you order for me?”
“I ordered for both of us,” he told her. “Crab cakes, cole slaw and sweet potato fries.”
Dylan recalled Tony recommending them, so he thought he’d give them a try, even if they were prepared by The Corporation’s private caterers. When the food came, they ate in relative silence and when the dishes were cleared from the table, the server exited through a side door. Dylan stood and Cris looked up at him.
“I’m going to consider myself special because I know for a fact you don’t have dinner with every woman you meet here.”
Dylan didn’t want to think of the other women he’d had here at the club. That’s one of the reasons he’d requested a different suite tonight. Cris asked to be brought here and he’d obliged. Tonight wasn’t going to be like any other night.
“You’re nothing like any other woman I’ve ever known,” he said with finality and walked to another door.
“Come with me,” he said after opening the door and without turning back to her.
Dylan stepped into the other room. It was brighter here, with windows covered in tint so that no one on the outside could see in. There was a bed, nightstands and all the amenities of a master bedroom. There was also a wall of mirrors.
“So this is where the magic happens,” she said.
Dylan turned to her. She was standing a few feet away from the bed, looking around as if she’d never seen a bedroom before. But that wasn’t the problem. Dylan knew what she really wanted to know.
“I’ve never had another woman here, in this space,” he told her. “You are the first.”
She smiled and clasped her hands in front of her.
“I’m glad you picked the white one.” Dylan liked both dresses and had imagined seeing her in them. But this one made her look almost angelic, until she turned around.
“I’m glad you like it,” she said and did a slow spin so he could enjoy it once again.
Her entire back was bare, the material of the dress picking up again just above the curve of her bottom. He wanted to kiss her there.
“Stand by the mirror,” Dylan told her while he moved to a table and pulled open a drawer. He retrieved the ball gag he hadn’t used on her before, a silk tie and a condom.
She had done as he instructed and was now watching him. Her gaze fell to what was in his hands and then returned to meet his.
“You want to know why I need this place and this lifestyle?” he asked. “It’s because I know how it feels to be alone. I’ve grown accustom to it. This is the life that was meant for me.”
“My parents thought they knew what my life was meant to be, but I went another way. You have a choice, Dylan. You can be and do whatever you want.”
Hadn’t he told himself that before? But nothing else had ever worked.
Instead of responding to her comment, Dylan leaned forward to drop a whisper-soft kiss on her lips. “Turn around.”
She hesitated only a moment before doing as he said. Dylan stared at her through the mirror. He knew that face, those eyes, that nose, her smile. Everything about Cristine Palmer was etched permanently in his mind. Tonight would be an added memory, because it might be the last time he’d be with her.
Dylan dropped the items he held in his hand to the floor. If this was going to be the last time, he planned to make it worth it for both of them. While holding her gaze in the mirror, Dylan ran the back of his fingers down the skin left bare from her dress.
“I want you to think of nothing but pleasure,” he whispered.
She licked her lips and shivered as his fingers brushed the small of her back.
“Imagine it washing over you like rain and rendering you helpless. I want you to give me every ounce of your pleasure tonight, Cris. Give it all to me.”
She nodded. “I can do that.”
She could give him her pleasure, but could he give her his? Could he give her something he’d never given another woman before?
Dylan unzipped the dress and decided he did not like the way his thoughts were drifting. He had to focus on the pleasure just as he’d instructed her to do. As lovely as the dress was on her, Dylan couldn’t wait to get it off. He pushed the material from her shoulders and down until it hit the floor. She stepped out of it while Dylan’s gaze remained fixated on her.
“You didn’t wear anything under it,” he said with a grateful sigh.
“I was instructed not to.”
“And you listened. Good girl.” He dropped a kiss to her bare shoulder, touching his tongue to her soft skin.
Her body was gorgeous. Trim, but curvy in all his favorite places.
“The reason I like the ball gag is not as a form of punishment, but because I found that focusing on the pleasure was easier without sound.”
“Then why don’t you wear one too?” she asked with an arch of her brow.
Dylan smirked at her through the mirror before kneeling to grab the gag. “This is a small one since you’re a beginner and it’s pink, one of your favorite colors.”
None of that had made her look at the gag with anything other than obvious skepticism.
Dylan fastened the apparatus around her head and was about to insert it before he paused, “If you want to stop, just say the word.”
“I won’t be able to say anything soon,” she quipped.
“Which is why I’m giving you the chance now. And during, you can just shake your head no and I’ll stop immediately. That’s how this works, Cris. Either you’re fully on board or we’re done.”
She inhaled slowly and released the breath while holding his gaze. “I’m fully in because this is what you think you need. It’s a part of you I’m interested in learning more about, but you can be sure that if at any point I change my mind, I will definitely let you know.”
Dylan believed her. He inserted the gag and brushed his fingers over her cheek when he was finished. He pulled her arms behind her back and tied them at her wrists before stepping back to stare at her. She looked lovely and sexy and his dick was so hard he almost shuddered from the pain.
He removed his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt, all while watching her standing in the mirror. Her eyes were growing darker with surprise and arousal. She was most likely surprised at how aroused she was becoming despite the items he used on her. Dylan was surprised at how aroused seeing her this way made him.
When he dropped his hands to the buckle of his belt, her gaze lowered. Her chest did a quick rise and fall. She shifted her weight on her feet, rubbing her thighs together.
“Are you ready for me so soon?” he asked.
She did not reply, but continued to watch.
Her nipples were hard. It wasn’t warm in the room, but it wasn’t cold either. Dylan undid the belt, the button on his pants and the zipper. He pushed them down his long legs and stepped out of his shoes before taking them off. He’d purposely left his boxers on because he normally did not remove them at all. He could pull his dick through the slit in the material, sheath himself and fuck just fine with them on.
He came to stand behind h
er, reaching his hands around to cup her breasts. The feel of the weight of her breasts in his hands was glorious, the sight of his flesh on her flesh in such an intimate way was mouthwatering. He wanted to go slow. He normally did. But tonight, this time, he wasn’t going to be able to.
One hand slid down her torso to rest over her navel. They looked like an erotic portrait, two toned black bodies and two sets of eyes clouded by desire. It was an amazing and alluring sight. Her legs parted even before Dylan began to move his hand again. She sighed and let her head fall back against his shoulder. Dylan dropped his head and kissed her neck. He pressed his fingers further until they separated the folds of her pussy. He touched her clit and she arched against him. Two fingers inside her and Dylan was lost. His tongue moved along the skin of her neck while he pumped in and out of her.
Ragged moans escaped him. His dick was so hard it poked right through the slit in his boxers to poke against her back. He pressed into her because he was ready to fuck.
“I’ve never craved a woman before.” For a moment Dylan wasn’t sure who was speaking.
The voice didn’t sound like his and the words weren’t something he would say to anyone.
“I cannot stop thinking about you, Cristine. About touching you, tasting you and…”
He squeezed her breast and pumped his fingers into her faster. Pulling his fingers out momentarily he rubbed them along her clit before dipping them back inside. She bent her knees and thrust her hips against his fingers. Her head was still resting on his shoulder.
“Look at me!” Dylan yelled. “Look at us!”
Her head jerked up and she met his gaze with a wide-eyed stare.
“Is this what you came back for, Cristine? To be in this room with me? To give me everything I require? Is that what you want in your life?”
It was what Dylan wanted in his. This pleasure. This comfort. This intense feeling that he’d never experienced before.
She did not respond. Not a moan or nod of her head. Nothing.
Dylan pulled his fingers from her. He released her breast and stepped away from her. He wanted to feel his skin against hers, so he quickly pushed the boxers down his legs and knelt down to pick up the condom packet he’d dropped on the floor. When he was once again standing, Dylan caught Cris’s gaze through the mirror. He began sheathing himself while she watched his hand holding his dick, smoothing the condom over his length, but she did not…could not speak. What would she say if she could speak? Was it something he would want to hear?
Focus.
Dylan moved to stand directly behind her again. He wrapped an arm around her waist and stepped forward to ease her closer to the mirror until her breasts touched the glass. Then Dylan positioned himself. He pressed his dick between the crease in her ass and moved lower until his head touched the mouth of her opening. He thrust hard, embedding his full length into her. She did not make a sound but moved until her forehead touched the glass as well.
Dylan closed his eyes and began pumping into her. He grabbed the tie that was binding her hands for leverage and buried himself in her, pulling out and thrusting in once again. Pleasure washed over him like heavy waves and he gritted his teeth against the intensity of the feeling. When that wasn’t enough he moaned. A low sound at first and then as his pumping increased, and the pleasure became too much for him to hold under wraps, he groaned loud.
“Look at me!” he yelled again. “Look at us!”
But Cris did not look at him through the mirror this time. She looked over her shoulder until she found and held his gaze. She didn’t have to speak to tell Dylan what he knew without a doubt. His entire body froze because in that moment he knew that Cris had seen him. She’d finally seen the real Dylan James.
8
Cris shook the managing partner’s hand. She kept her smile in place and told herself not to turn around to catch the lecherous snob watching her ass as she walked out of his office. After she stepped inside the elevator she sighed heavily. This was interview number seven. The last four had taken place in the two weeks since she’d been invited to The Corporation by Dylan.
He’d offered his help in getting her a position, but Cris turned him down. She’d gotten her first job on her own, she was certain she could get another. In fact, she already had an offer. It was at a medium-size firm leading their transactional law department, something she was more than qualified to do. Actually, it was the job she’d first wanted at the firm in New York, but after years of proving herself to the partners there, Cris had soon realized they never intended to let her—a black woman who hadn’t attended an Ivy League college or law school—lead one of their largest departments. In essence, they didn’t want her leading a group of fourteen white men who had gone to the “right” schools and had the “right” background. That had been the start of her re-evaluation of what she wanted from life.
Now, after leaving her high six-figure-paying job, returning the Mercedes she’d been leasing and once again refusing to use any of the money her parents had put into a trust fund for her, she was starting all over again. And she wasn’t one hundred percent positive that the offer to work at a smaller firm, making thirty-five thousand less than she had been in New York, while doing almost, if not, more work, was a viable solution. Which meant, she was still looking for a job. She was also still staying at the hotel because without an employer to verify employment or paystubs to provide, no apartment building or landlord was going to offer her a lease. It wasn’t yet time to panic. She was certain of that, or at least she was doing a damn good job of convincing herself.
Besides, even if she hadn’t found a job yet, Cris was certain she’d found something else—her soulmate. After that night at The Corporation her “just friends” relationship with Dylan was officially gone. They’d slipped into being lovers and great friends and for the last two weeks their dinners, nights full of lovemaking, shared breakfasts and daily text messages had confirmed what she’d dared to dream, that she was in love with her best friend.
It sounded so cliché and it was something that nine years ago neither of them would have considered. And yet it was something so right. Every part of her mind, body and soul knew that being with him was exactly what she needed. As for Dylan, well Cris wasn’t so sure he was ready to admit the same thing. While she now knew about the secret of his dark sexual desires, and enjoyed most of them—the rope tying he’d done the other night was not her favorite—she was still acutely aware of the part of himself that Dylan still held back from her. In the past couple of weeks they’d talked about his parents and their current political status, his work at his firm and where he envisioned himself five years from now. They’d even talked a little about a rent dispute issue he’d discovered while looking into the Southlake Restoration Project. This issue didn’t involve Southlake, but it did concern another neighborhood in Chicago. Dylan was actually planning a trip back to Chicago before the end of the year to meet with the local representatives. Cris thought that was an excellent idea. She could see the need for legislative reform in the area. She’d also done a little background checking on the types of businesses in the areas around Southlake and how they could benefit from better organization in the future. And while all of this was great progress in their new relationship, Cris was very aware of the fact that in the weeks she’d been back in Washington, D.C.—minus the night in the beginning when she’d followed him from work to his apartment building—Dylan had never invited her to his home. The night of their auction date he’d taken her to his playroom. Their next tryst had been at her hotel room and then they’d gone to The Corporation. In the past two weeks they either spent the night at her hotel or at the club, and each time after an early morning breakfast, he rushed back to his place to change and head to the office.
It wasn’t time to worry about that either. It was still very early in their revised relationship. They hadn’t even given the relationship a name. Was she his bae? Was he hers? Were there rules and boundaries they should be keeping in mi
nd as they proceeded? Did this have a chance at ending in marriage? For Cris, the answer to most of those questions was a resounding yes, but she wasn’t so sure about Dylan. In fact, she had no clue how he felt about any of that. And she was actually tired of thinking about it right now.
It was a crisp fall day in the city and the minute she’d stepped off the elevator, walked along the marbled floors of the lobby and through the glass front doors of the building, a brisk wind slapped her in the face. She adjusted her purse on her arm and pulled her wool cooper-colored coat tighter over her chest. The loose curls she’d used the flat iron to put in her hair earlier today were now blowing in the wind as she walked down the street. She decided she wasn’t ready to go back to her hotel yet. It was a little after five and instead she wanted to walk and clear her mind for a while.
Three blocks later, the brisk fall air had turned chilly and Cris craved a cup of hot chocolate. Or she’d seen the coffee shop sign in the distance ahead and told herself that would be a good place to get warm and get off her feet. The natural-colored four-inch heel knee boots she’d worn to match the beige wool skirt suit, weren’t exactly the best walking shoes.
Minutes later she was inside the coffee shop, shivering slightly. She stood in the line and ordered hot chocolate and two huge oatmeal raisin cookies before finding a seat near the window. Cris had removed her coat, plugged her phone into a wall charger next to the table and was scrolling through her emails while sipping her hot chocolate when she was interrupted.
“Hey girl! I was wondering when we were going to run into each other again.”
Tisha McQueen, Cris’s former grad-school roommate was standing beside the table removing her black leather coat.
“Hey,” Cris said a lot less enthusiastically than Tisha had spoken. She watched Tisha put her coat on the back of the empty chair across from her as if she’d been invited to stay.
“Winter is definitely coming,” Tisha continued as she rubbed her hands together and lifted them to her mouth to blow into them. “I’m gonna get me a coffee. I’ll be right back.”