by Jamie Knight
Reese’s performance tonight showed me she wasn’t afraid to give up control and let a man take charge, but she also wasn’t scared to stand up for herself. I smirked. Simon’s busted nose was proof of that.
I pictured how she’d splayed herself wide for my perusal. How she’d flicked her swollen clit back and forth, and how she wasn’t ashamed at pleasuring herself or vocalizing that pleasure.
My pants felt too tight. I unzipped them and pulled out my long cock. It was begging for release. I gripped it tightly, pumping my hand up and down on my shaft. Using my thumb, I traced circles around my base and pulled my other hand close to cup my balls.
When I sucked Reese’s fingers and tasted her essence, it was all I could do not to bend her over and fuck her from behind. As tempted as I was, fucking her was something I would wait to do. Waiting would make it better. I would string her along till we both were desperate for release. Our first time together would be thrilling and exciting for both of us, and I would make sure it was something neither of us would ever forget.
Not giving up its throbbing plea for attention, my dick continued to pulse. Relenting, I rubbed my hand over my dickhead, pulling the precum down to dampen my shaft. My swollen cock was more than ready.
When I squeezed and ran my hand up my length, an involuntary moan fell from my lips. If I wasn’t careful, I would lose it like an inexperienced schoolboy watching his first porno.
Using a tight grip, I began to stroke harder. My balls tingled and filled, and the pressure in my lower back increased to dangerous levels. Then I remembered Reese’s panties.
I stopped stroking and strangled the base of my dick to hold off my climax. Jerking off to thoughts of Reese wasn’t something to be rushed.
When the danger of coming had passed, I got up, dick in hand, and walked over to my coat. I retrieved Reese’s red satin panties from a pocket and held them to my face. I could still smell her. The scent of her arousal was musky and sweet.
Bringing my hand down, I ran the silky material over my hard cock teasing myself a bit. The lightest brush of the satin was enough to push me to my limits again. That and the thought that these little panties had touched Reese’s pussy. They had held and cupped her sex as she got wetter with each suggestion and order I made.
I slumped down onto the couch in my home office. The leather was cool against my sweating back. Opening my legs wide and sliding forward, I resumed my work. The satin of her panties slid softly up and down my shaft. I remembered the way she bit her lip. The way she moaned. The way her hips gyrated. How wet and swollen she was.
My breathing increased along with the speed of my hand. Fuck. I couldn’t stop the inevitable. It was like I was at the top of the world’s highest roller-coaster about to go into free fall.
My balls filled to bursting and my hand pumped harder and faster as I hurtled to the end of the ride. Reese’s name spilled from my lips along with several curses, and for a nanosecond, my mind went blank followed by an eruption of hot come spurting over my hand.
Fuck.
Jesus.
Fuck.
My heart pounded like I’d just crossed the finish line of a marathon in first place. I closed my eyes, wishing Reese were with me to lick every last drop of cum from my hand and stomach.
Soon.
Very soon.
Instead, I rubbed my cum into her panties. It was the perfect way to clean up and Monday she would wear them. My dirty little pet would wear the evidence of my desire. I knew it would make her run to the bathroom and seek her own release. The very thought made me hard again.
Chapter Seven - Reese
Today was the Mondayist of Mondays that had ever Mondayed. I’d never had a more frustrating weekend in my life. Every few minutes, I’d checked my phone to see if it was working—it was. Kane had made zero contact. But what was I expecting? For him to call me up and beg me to come see him because he couldn’t live without me? Had I expected him to declare his never-ending love for me?
Puh-lease. I’m not dumb.
And why would he do that? Because I’d finger fucked myself in a public restroom in front of him? I bet women did things like that for him all the time. What had happened between us might never happen again, and I had to accept that.
It was a few moments of pure, erotic madness, but those few moments would give me aftershocks for the rest of my life. And, who knew, maybe Friday night was the beginning of my bad luck turning a corner. I reached up and pressed my hand against my necklace. The points of the star bit into my fingertips in a comforting way. The only time I’d taken it off over the weekend was to shower. It was now my official good luck charm.
With my gloved hand wrapped around my daily venti white chocolate mocha, I stamped my feet against the pavement outside of McKenzie Technologies on Park Avenue to ward off the cold. Early Fall in Manhattan had always been my favorite time of year. There was a crisp chill in the air, and the trees were in the process of turning pretty colors.
I tilted my head back and examined the glass-fronted building. The penthouse office—Kane’s office—was fifty-four stories up and was somewhere I was curious to visit. From what I’d heard, the top floor looked like a luxurious hotel lobby.
Was he up there watching me, waiting for me? Had he spent the past forty-eight hours obsessing about me the way I’d obsessed about him? Had he jerked off using my panties like he’d said he would, and would they be waiting for me when I reached my cubicle?
I’d never masturbated more in my life than I had over the past two days. And every time I had, I’d mentally replayed what had happened between us in the restroom. My overactive imagination adding spicier details every time.
I couldn’t wait to see what this week brought—if anything. The anticipation of what was to potentially come had left me acting like a jittery, lovesick tween. After showering this morning, I’d drawn hearts through the condensation on my bathroom mirror, but then I wiped them away and told myself to grow up. I was twenty-nine, not nineteen.
I sighed and forced myself to stop gaping at the top floor like a drooling buffoon and headed towards the building. My mundane life would stay on the same mundane path it always had. Today, like every day, I’d go to my cubicle and crunch numbers.
As much as I fantasized about being Kane’s office pet, he wasn’t going to give me an office right beside his so he could fuck me whenever he wanted too. And nor was he going to have a special pet cage in his office to lock me in if I was a naughty girl. And, besides, I still wasn’t sure what being his office pet entailed, plus he could have changed his mind over the weekend. Someone with Kane’s status could have any woman he wanted, so why would he want me?
There was more to worry about than Kane summoning me to his office. Simon had friends at McKenzie, and I was sure he’d already whispered in a few people’s ears despite being warned to keep his mouth shut. I so didn’t want to deal with the backlash and office gossip, but there was nothing I could do about it. Time had taught me I couldn’t control people’s words, thoughts, or opinions.
On Saturday morning, I’d filed a police report about the incident at the art gallery. Yesterday, the female detective I’d spoken to had called to inform me that Simon had left the country but as soon as he set foot on American soil again, he’d be brought in for questioning. I didn’t hold out much hope of any charges being brought, but I felt better knowing the police were now aware of him.
Needing to get to my cubicle before nine, I pushed my way through the revolving glass doors. My heels clicked against the polished tiles, and I waved at Tony, the gray-haired and wizened security guard who always had a smile for me.
When I reached the elevator, the doors were about to close, but I stuck my foot in before they did. I didn’t want to give Linda, my manager, a reason to roll her eyes at me for my tardiness again—something I was known for. Timeliness had been a lifelong struggle. I wasn’t cut out for the hustle and bustle of corporate life, but since
I had bills and college loans to pay, the next thirty years of my existence, from nine till five, would be spent in a cubicle.
If I could have, I would have spent my days volunteering at animal shelters but giving love to abandoned pets and strays wouldn’t give me medical or a 401k. Growing up, I had no kind of financial security, and it was the one thing I was determined to give myself even if that meant a life of dreary monotony. No matter what path my life took or how bad my luck sometimes appeared to be, I’d always make sure I had money in the bank for a rainy day.
I stepped inside the half-full but silent elevator and peered around. Great. Sloane. The bane of my life. She lifted her flawless porcelain doll face from her phone and glanced at me with distaste. My Goodwill ensemble obviously didn’t meet with her approval. I didn’t see the point in spending money on new clothes when I could pick up something just as good from a thrift store.
The secret was to find one near an upscale neighborhood. I’d scored Coach bags, Jimmy Choo shoes, and even found a few Anne Klein suits that fitted me perfectly. Who cared if they were so last season? I always appeared put together and professional no matter the price tag.
I met Sloane’s disapproving gaze, and for a second, I wondered what it would be like to have a trust fund and a daddy who paid for everything.
Without saying a word—her face said everything—Sloane’s attention went back to her phone.
The elevator stopped on the second floor, and a group of executives in somber business suits stepped in. The last one to step in was Kane. My heart beat so fast and hard I was sure everyone could hear it. An image of me throwing myself at his feet and offering to suck his cock formed in my mind. I bit my lip to stop the laughter bubbling up inside of me at such a ludicrous thought and image.
I wanted him to look at me and acknowledge me, to somehow let me know that Friday night wasn’t a moment of madness and was something he deeply regretted.
Sloane lowered her phone and greeted Kane with her perfect veneered smile, and I immediately wanted to kick off my stiletto and stab her blackened heart.
“Good morning, Mr. McKenzie. Daddy so enjoyed golfing with you yesterday,” she simpered in a sickly-sweet voice that seemed several octaves higher than usual. “Such a shame we had to leave and come back to the city. We should have cocktails next time you’re at the club.”
“Perhaps,” he said, giving her a polite nod.
He punched in a code then hit the button for the penthouse. As soon as the elevator began moving, he turned his attention to me. “Did you have a good weekend, Reese?”
I swallowed hard, and blood rushed to my cheeks. “Oh, you know, the usual. A lovely jaunt out to the Hamptons on Daddy’s yacht, followed by a rousing game of croquet on the lawn of his beachfront mansion. He has his servants cut the grass with nail scissors to make sure it’s perfect.”
I could see he was doing his best to hold back his laughter. “Is that so?”
“Yes. Daddy says the balls roll better on hand-cut grass.”
“Good to know,” he said with a chuckle. “Remember the assignment I discussed with you on Friday?”
“Yes, Sir.” It was on the tip of my tongue to say, God, yes, it’s all I’ve thought about.
“Good. You’ll find the details in the top drawer of your desk. Make it your priority and see it’s attended to as soon as possible and report back to me as soon as you’re finished.”
“I’ll get to it right away.” Unicorns and fairies pranced around my feet and angels sat on top of my shoulders. He didn’t regret what had happened, and the proof was waiting at my desk. Ha! Take that along with your cocktails, Sloane, and shove them up your ass along with the stick already lodged there.
The elevator stopped on the fifth floor, and both Sloane and I stepped out into the hallway, but before I got further than a few steps, she blocked my path.
From day one, she’d had it out for me, but I could never figure out why. We worked in the same department. Or I should say, I worked, she filed her nails.
Her narrow face pinched in anger as she looked at me. “How the hell does Kane McKenzie know who you are? And what the hell was all that talk about a yacht and croquet? Were you making fun of me?” She tapped the tip of one of her thousand-dollar pairs of shoes harshly on the tile.
I ached to tell her to go fuck herself, but because I was at work and wanted to remain professional, I wouldn’t. I rolled back my shoulders and tried to relax.
“I met him at an art gallery on Friday night,” I told her. “He helped me get out of a bad situation. Not that it’s any of your business.” I might not be able to tell her to go fuck herself, but that didn’t mean I had to be polite. “And yes, I was making fun of you.” Why lie about it?
She flinched slightly but recovered. Her face went cold. “Everyone knows how you got Simon fired. It’s all over the office Watercooler.” She smirked. “That’s right, I forgot, you’re not on the Watercooler chat.”
Watercooler was an interoffice chat room I didn’t bother with. I refused to let her bait me. “Simon got himself fired by trying to abuse his power.”
Sloane stuck a long narrow finger out at me. “You got him fired because he wasn’t interested in you. You threw yourself at him. Begged him.”
I wouldn’t let her provoke me and I wouldn’t give into her taunting. “Believe what you want, Sloane.” I shrugged. “Kane was there. He saw and heard everything.”
“I don’t believe you. No one will.” She stamped her shoe again like a toddler about to throw a tantrum.
“I don’t care, now get out of my way. I have work to do.” I tried to step around her, but once again she blocked my path by putting an arm out in front of me.
“What assignment does Kane have for you?”
I gave her a wide if somewhat bitchy smile. “He’s looking for a mentee and asked if I’d like to apply for the position.”
Rage colored her cheeks. She dropped her arms to her sides and balled her fists. “If anyone is going to be mentored by him, it’s me. You should have been let go instead of being offered a position here. Go back to the cesspit you crawled out of.”
I sighed dramatically. “Jealousy isn’t a good look on you, Sloane. Green doesn’t quite match your eyes.”
With that parting blow, I strode away. If she thought her words would hurt me, she was dead wrong. Over the years, I’d figured out how to deal with people like her. Never back down and never show weakness, because the moment they realized they’d found a soft spot, they’d use every weapon in their arsenal to pummel you into the ground. And I had no intention of being brought down by a rich daddy’s girl.
Chapter Eight - Reese
Fighting the urge to run or skip, I anxiously quick-marched to my cubicle. I was desperate to discover my assignment. Anticipation tickled my insides. I pulled open the top desk drawer. Sitting on top of my pens and notebooks was a slightly bulging nondescript manila envelope.
Making sure the coast was clear, I grabbed the envelope and shoved it into my oversized tote, and without even sitting down or turning on my computer, I hurried to the restroom, eager to find out if my cum-encrusted panties were inside.
I was sure Kane was watching me, checking to see if I was doing what he’d asked. I smiled at every camera I passed, wanting him to know how anxious I was to begin.
Linda, the manager of my floor, was the only other person in the restroom. She was busy studying her reflection and checking her chalk white teeth for lipstick stains. I’d never seen her lips any other shade than fire-engine red.
She turned her unlined face to me; her brown eyes pinched with annoyance. For someone closer to forty than thirty, Linda could pass for twenty-five. She was a fan of surgical procedures and fighting the aging process tooth and nail. When she died, because of all the chemical compounds she’d pumped into her body, she wouldn’t need embalming. “I’m beginning to think you have an ongoing UTI issue, Reese. I’ve never known anyone w
ho goes to the bathroom as much as you do.”
I shrugged and gave her an easy smile. “Um, I have a weak bladder. Plus, I drink way too much caffeine.”
She rolled her eyes and went back to applying her lipstick. “I want us to sit down for another evaluation this week. I like you, Reese, you work hard and are a whizz with spreadsheets and databases, but your timekeeping is abysmal. Were you like this at your old company?”
Trying to take this seriously, I leaned against the counter and faced her. “I guess I was used to a more laid-back work environment with fewer employees. I’ll try to do better. I promise.” I crossed my ankles and feigned like I really needed to use the restroom. If she kept talking, I would resort to the pee-pee dance.
Linda fluffed the sleek angled pixie cut she wore her black hair in and looked at my reflection in the mirror. “Good, because I’d hate to lose you over something like timekeeping. You know what you’re doing, and as soon as a senior position comes up, I want you to get it. I count myself lucky to have you in my department.”
“Thanks, Linda, I really appreciate it, but I really gotta go,” I said pointing to an open stall.
She threw her lipstick into her makeup bag then threw her makeup bag into her purse. She sighed and looked at me again via the mirror. “Don’t take all day and for God’s sake, go to the doctor, Reese.”
“Sure thing.”
I went into the nearest open stall and locked the door. I was glad the stalls were built for privacy, with floor to ceiling walls and doors. Before doing anything else, I closed the toilet lid and wiped off the seat. With shaking fingers, I grabbed the manila envelope from my purse and ripped it open.