Spring It On Me

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Spring It On Me Page 18

by Weston Parker


  She looked at me. “You should be the one they approached.”

  “I’m poor. Nobody is approaching me about anything. Even the panhandlers on the street know better than to ask me for spare change.”

  She laughed again. “Now you’re guilting me into it. I feel like I have to do it.”

  “You know you want to do it. You just get panicky when anything that requires any kind of commitment comes your way. Like you said, this is a great way for you to focus your time. You would have something to do every day, something meaningful. I think it’s a great opportunity. I’m ordering you to do it.”

  “What if it’s a shady front for something awful?”

  “It isn’t.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “If it is, you walk away,” I told her.

  “But—”

  “No buts. Make the call. I want my son to be a part of this program and I won’t feel comfortable if you’re not a part of it as well. I trust you. Therefore, I trust the people you let be a part of it. I warn you. Vet them well. You do not want any perverts getting mixed up with your program.”

  “Well, duh, I know that.”

  “I’m excited for you,” I said after we had sat in silence for a while.

  “For what?”

  “Your new job. Although it’s a job that won’t pay you a nickel, I know you are going to find it very rewarding. I’m proud of you.”

  “I haven’t done anything yet,” she mumbled.

  “But you will, especially if you know it will help Jake.” I turned to look at her and saw her small smile.

  “You’re right. That kid has me wrapped around his little pinky.”

  Chapter 29

  Ashton

  Things were very tense and uncomfortable between Willow and me. Ever since that day I had asked her to take her son home, she had barely said more than a couple of words to me. It was all about work. There was no joking, no teasing—nothing. I didn’t think I liked Willow when she was strictly business. It was dull. It wasn’t what I was used to at all, and I never wanted to get used to it.

  I wasn’t exactly making any real effort to talk to her either, I supposed. I had been aloof and my normal self. It was her constant jokes that had brought out another side of me. A side I didn’t even know existed until I had met her. It wasn’t just her I missed. It was the person she made me that I missed.

  But I told myself that was for the best. Things were getting way too hot between us. I didn’t want to end up feeling things for her that I had no business feeling. It was better to cut things off before they could really get complicated. It was going to be a very long eleven months.

  There was a soft knock on the door. I waited for her to come in. She didn’t. That was her other new thing. She no longer barged in without warning. She knocked and waited for me to ask her to enter. “Come in,” I said with exasperation.

  She walked in, wearing a skirt I had seen on her a few times before. It was tight and short and made me think about sliding my hand up it. I blinked, reminding myself I didn’t do that anymore. We didn’t do that anymore. We were strictly boss and employee.

  She closed the door behind her. It was something else she had started doing. She had told me she didn’t want to interfere with my quiet place. It was a very thinly veiled insult. She was still pissed about what I had said about her son disturbing the quiet.

  “Good morning,” she greeted with a forced smile. “Here’s your schedule.” She dropped a piece of paper on my desk.

  “Thank you.”

  She stood in front of my desk. I looked up at her, refusing to get lost in the blue eyes that always made me feel things I wasn’t used to feeling. Things I didn’t really want to feel. I could see the question in her eyes. I dreaded what was coming.

  “Is it always going to be like this?” she asked.

  “Like what?”

  She frowned, and her eyes held a hint of worry. “Are you going to fire me?”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because you’ve barely spoken to me since you found out I had a son.”

  I smirked. “That goes both ways. You haven’t been yourself and you have barely looked at me.”

  She shrugged, sitting down in the chair. “Because you were really pissed that day. You’re still pissed. I can feel it.”

  “I’m not pissed.”

  “Liar,” she shot back.

  That was a little more like the old Willow. “I’m not lying. Why would I be pissed?”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Exactly. Why are you pissed? And don’t say you aren’t because you are. I can see it. I can feel it. I know I don’t know you, but I know you well enough. I know you can be a dick, but you have been especially dickish.”

  I frowned. “Is that even a word?”

  “Is that really the point?”

  “No, I suppose not.”

  “What happened?” she asked, her voice much softer. “Why is it such a problem that I have a son?”

  I threw my hands up. “Because you didn’t tell me!”

  That seemed to shock her. “What?”

  “You’ve worked here how long, and you didn’t even mention your son one time?”

  She shook her head. “Why would I? I honestly didn’t think you would care. I don’t understand why you do care.”

  I rubbed my jaw. “I talked to you and told you things about me that I have never told anyone else.”

  “Ashton, you barely told me anything. I know the basics, like where you worked and went to school, but I don’t know anything personal about you.”

  “It’s more than most people know.”

  She frowned before nodding. “Okay. I didn’t know that though.”

  “Whatever.”

  She smiled. “Now you sound like my son.”

  It was a glimpse of the old Willow. “It’s like you have this secret life that I knew nothing about.”

  “I’m sorry. I like to keep my personal life out of my work life. Too often, people see me as handicapped in some way because I have a kid. I cannot count the number of jobs I have lost because of my single mother status. Usually because I have to leave or call in or because I’m distracted. I don’t go around blabbing about my son because then people ask questions.”

  “You are very forward,” I said. “I don’t understand why that would be an issue for you.”

  “It’s not an issue, but it isn’t like we are girlfriends, and it isn’t like there is a bunch of pillow talk. I didn’t want to make things weird between us.”

  That part, I understood. “Okay, I get it. I guess. Any other secret kids?”

  She laughed. “No. Jake is my only son.”

  “Interesting.”

  “I don’t think it’s all that interesting. Lots of people have kids.”

  “You know what I mean,” I groaned. It was hard to have a battle of words with her. She always had a quick comeback. I couldn’t always keep up.

  “I do.”

  “Can I ask about him?”

  “Are you asking about him or are you asking about how he came to be in this world?” she asked.

  I wanted to know the latter, but that would be overstepping. “Him. What happened that day?”

  She blew out a breath. “It’s been an ongoing thing. School these days is hard for kids, especially kids that have certain disadvantages.”

  “Like what kind of disadvantage?”

  “Me. I’m a single mom. I’ve never made a lot of money. He doesn’t have all the cool toys and wear all the cool clothes. Kids pick on anything they think isn’t normal. They really pick on him. It started last year, and it just keeps getting worse.”

  I nodded with understanding. I knew it all too well. “Have you thought about putting him in a different school?”

  Her warm smile filtered through me, warming me. “I have, and I am, but I didn’t want to pull him out so close to the end of the year. My friend got him into a private school that I hope is going to be much better
for him.”

  “A private school? Isn’t that going to be expensive?”

  She grinned. “The good thing about being poor is rich people want to help you. He got a scholarship. He even got a voucher for uniforms. All I need to do is get him dressed and to school every morning.”

  “Good. Great. That is awesome, and I hope it will work much better for him. Getting bullied is no fun at all.”

  “No, I don’t imagine it is.”

  “Has it happened since then?” I asked. I couldn’t explain it, but I felt a sense of responsibility for him. He wasn’t mine, and I didn’t even know him, but we shared a lot in common. I felt a kinship with him and hated that another child was suffering like I had.

  She blew out a breath. “No. At least not that he has told me and not that the school has told me.”

  I shook my head. “I’m sorry. That is rough business.”

  “I’m sure it will get better.”

  A sudden realization dawned on me. “That’s why you don’t want me to rent space in that new building,” I said.

  She shrugged. “With Jake’s problems at school, I need to be kind of close. I can’t be on the other side of town and risk getting stuck in traffic in case there’s another incident. I get serious anxiety when I’m too far away from him.”

  I slowly nodded, not truly getting it but having a little better understanding. “I suppose that’s wise.”

  “I’m a little crazy in that respect. I can be a little overprotective.”

  “Given what your son is going through, I think that is understandable.”

  “I suppose,” she said with a dainty shrug. “He’s halfway grown-up. Soon, he’s not going to want me anywhere near him. I have to take advantage of every minute I have that he will let me be with him.”

  “I get it,” I said, but I didn’t get it. I had no personal experience, so I had no fucking clue about what she was talking about.

  There was an awkward silence between us. “I should go back to my desk. I don’t want to bother you.”

  “You’re not bothering me,” I told her, not wanting her to leave just yet.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  I looked at her. “What? Why are you sorry?”

  “Because I should have been more thoughtful.”

  “It’s fine.”

  “Is it?” she asked, getting up and coming around my desk.

  I nodded. “It is. You were doing what you needed to. I get it. It’s all about survival. You learn from your past. You learn from the way you’ve been treated in the past.”

  She smiled at me before closing the laptop and sliding across the desk, forcing me to scoot back a few inches. She looked down at me, those blue eyes flashing with mischief. “You’re my boss.”

  I nodded. “I am.”

  “And lover,” she whispered, drawing out the word on a long breath.

  “Am I?”

  “Yes. Those are two very easy to define labels. We work together and occasionally have sex in the office—or wherever we happen to be. But we don’t talk to one another while lying in bed at night. We don’t send sexy, sweet texts throughout the day. We are co-workers. It’s not complicated. Isn’t that what you want?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t not want it.”

  “Then I don’t think we have a problem.”

  I couldn’t believe it could be that easy. Was she willing to keep up the thing we had going even after what I had done? I couldn’t believe it. I was thrilled, but I couldn’t believe it. “You’re sure about that?”

  She slowly nodded. “Now, I’ll remind you that this is a very quiet place. We can’t be making a bunch of noise that might disturb your co-workers. We don’t want to create a situation that forces you to have to bend the rules for the other employees. You are a professional in a professional environment.”

  I watched, holding my breath as she stood up from where she’d been perched on the edge of my desk and reached behind her. I heard the zipper on her skirt being pulled down ever so slowly. I swallowed, the sound echoing in the room that was too quiet. She slowly, purposefully waggled her hips back and forth, sliding the skirt down her hips.

  I stared at the black lacy thong she had on. All thoughts about where we were vanished from my mind. All I could think about was what was between those legs. I could smell her arousal mixed with the faint scent of her perfume. She leaned forward, reaching for my tie and slowly loosening it. I didn’t move. I felt paralyzed. I had never been paralyzed by desire.

  She dropped to her knees in front of my chair and undid my pants as if it was the most common thing in the world. I reached up and ran a hand through her hair. Her hands reached into my pants, pulling my cock from my underwear and slowly stroking up and down.

  I groaned, settling in for what I knew was going to be a hell of a ride.

  Chapter 30

  Willow

  While some might think my boss had all the power, especially in the current situation, they would be wrong. I held the power. Almost literally, I had the power in that moment. I could see how much he wanted me to put my mouth on his dick. He would never ask for it, but I could see he wanted it. I could feel his body surging in my hand.

  I had the power and I was going to use it to bring us both pleasure. I looked up at him, searching his eyes. He stared back at me, his nostrils flaring as he breathed. I lowered my mouth to the head of his cock. My tongue darted out, lapping over the bulbous head. I heard him hiss through clenched teeth and looked up at him, keeping his dick in my mouth.

  He squeezed his eyes closed, sucking in a deep breath. His hands gripped the armrests. His knuckles turned white with the pressure he wielded. I returned my focus to the task at hand—in hand rather. I sucked hard, bobbing up and down on him. One hand reached into my hair, his fingertips massaging my scalp.

  I was giving him pleasure with my mouth and bringing myself a great deal of pleasure as well. I swayed my hips, mimicking the act of love as I ran my tongue up and down his hard length. I moaned as I moved, sending sweet vibrations through my mouth and directly to my core.

  “Willow, I can’t,” he grunted. “Not like this.”

  I pulled my mouth away, using two fingers to wipe my lips while I looked up at him. “Not like this?” I repeated in a slight daze.

  He got up, yanking me up at the same time. He attacked my panties with a fierceness that would have scared me in any other situation, with any other man. I heard them rip. I gasped with shock and excitement. “Ashton,” I said his name on a breath.

  “You pushed me too far. I can’t fuck around with those goddamn things. Open your legs.”

  He gently pushed me so my butt hit the desk. I opened my legs to him, welcoming him inside. I reached for his cock, pulling him toward me like it was a lead. He shoved my knees open wider. His arm wrapped around me, yanking me forward at the same time his cock found my entry and pushed inside with no readying. I didn’t need his fingers. I was already wet and very willing.

  His body joined with mine. My body recognized his and welcomed the entry. I sighed with a combination of relief and contentment. I felt the same kind of relief in his shoulders. We had been hungry for each other and didn’t even realize it. Well, that was not entirely true. I knew I had been hungry for him. Being around him the past couple of weeks and not being able to touch him had been brutal.

  It was like denying myself chocolate cake, something I never liked to do. I liked cake. “Good,” I murmured.

  “Good?” he whispered next to my ear. “What’s good?”

  “You inside me. It feels so good.” I felt almost drunk, my head kind of lolling back and forth as he slowly moved inside me.

  “It feels good to be inside you,” he rasped. “I can’t look at you without wanting to fuck you. I want to bend you over my desk and pound myself inside you until we are both screaming with pleasure.”

  The first shots of ecstasy flooded my body. “Do that,” I said through the haze of desire. “Do it please.”<
br />
  He dropped his mouth to mine, our tongues lashing as we fought to get inside one another’s mouth. “I can’t,” he said.

  “What? Why?” I was whimpering. Begging for him. Any power I had held was gone. He held all the power. I craved him. I craved him a million times more than I craved cake.

  His soft chuckle brushed over me. “Because this is a quiet place.”

  I gasped at his attempt to joke. I pushed against him, only then realizing he still had on his suit jacket. I didn’t think we could have been any more cliché if we tried. I shoved it down his shoulders, wanting to free his arms. Once he shrugged off the jacket, his hands were back on me, rubbing up and down my thighs.

  I shoved him again, much harder than the first time.

  “What the fuck?” he growled when his dick was pulled away from me.

  I hopped off the desk and turned around, placing my hands on his desk and waggling my ass in the air like a cat in heat. I didn’t care how vulgar it was. I felt like I was going to explode if I didn’t get him back inside me. “Ashton, I’m not going to stand like this forever. Do what you promised.”

  “Goddammit,” he growled.

  I turned to look over my shoulder and found him staring at what I offered. I arched my back, teasing him. He grabbed my hips with both hands, and with one very hard, sharp thrust, he penetrated me.

  A small cry escaped my throat. “Sorry,” I quickly apologized for ruining his quiet space.

  “You have no fucking idea how bad I want to hear you scream while I’m fucking you,” he growled. “I want my ears to ring. I want your heat exploding around me as I pound myself into you.”

  His words were better than the touch of his hand. They were making me crazy, making me wild. “More,” I begged. “Tell me more.”

  “Oh,” he whispered, bending over me. His teeth grabbed my ear, tugging and nibbling. “You like dirty talk?”

  I moaned. “I do.”

  “I think about the last time. I think about you on the floor, writhing, your legs open. I think about climbing over you and fucking you so hard you slide across the floor. I’ll chase you with my dick, slipping in and out of your wet heat. I can almost hear your cries.”

 

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